#15 and on will hopefully be a new period of my life. something hopeful. something engaging.

[orcelito]

Ykno, I think this is my first ITNL reread since things got... really bad for me

I've gotten to the parts I was working on during All Of That, and it's kind of distracting... 10 through 13 especially was......... rough.

I'm always gonna be remembering what my life was when I read these chapters, huh? It's just never gonna go away.

[wosoamazing]

A New Chapter

Y/N Williamson Epilogue?? (My last fic before I refresh my page/content...)

IMPORTANT: This fic involves a heterosexual relationship between R and a Fictional character... If this is something you don't want to read I suggest you move on. WARNINGS: bad injury (hip), mentions of hospitals and surgery, moving away, rehab, heterosexual relationships, some swearing, periods, endometriosis, vomit/mentions of, being scared to return home, mild sickness, kids?, hints/links to miscarriage (not everyone will notice), suggestive?? - it's long so there are a lot, I have tried to list them in order, however if you do really want to read it but you can't bc of some of the warnings message me and I can see if I can cut that part of the story out for you. A/N: Not properly edited yet, I will edit it later - so sorry if any mistakes. Also sorry if the second half of it feels rushed, it was getting so long but I may have accidentally rushed it trying to make it not insanely long... (Word Count: 7462 - be prepared, hopefully it's not boring)

Your dream of playing in an Olympics Final came crashing down 15 minutes into the Matildas’ opening match of the tournament. A corner had been given, Steph kicked it in and the next second you were on the ground in agony, it seemed to happen in fast forward for you. However for Leah, who was watching at home, the moment unfolded so agonisingly slowly, she saw Frohms place a hand on your shoulder restricting you from jumping, as Oberdorf jumped into the air behind you, if it wasn't for Frohms’ hand on your shoulder the goal could’ve been yours, she was angry and hoped the ref had picked up on it, however she wasn’t angry for long, as she saw the trajectory Oberdorf was coming down on, her jump slightly too high meaning she lost control. Time slowed to an almost stop as Leah froze sat in front of the TV, watching as Oberdorfs midsection completely landed on top of your left shoulder, she almost felt her heart stop as she saw your left leg brace, watching as it popped out from the force of Oberdorfs head hitting your thigh, causing you to completely crumple onto the ground. Thankfully the players around reacted quick enough to grab onto Oberdorf and flip her, otherwise your injury wouldn’t have been the worst, and something unimaginable could’ve happened. She saw your body jolt as you were turned onto your back, the look on your face along with the scream you let out indicating your hip most likely popped back into place. The full weight of it all occurred seconds later when a phone was brought onto the pitch and steph did something on it, Leah’s phone started to ring.

“Leah, she,” Steph breathed out not knowing what to say

“I know. I saw. Can I talk to her?” Leah asked before hearing some shuffling from the other end, watching Steph crouch down next to you on the TV.

“Le-ah,�� your voice came across the phone, it was full of pain and fear, Leah was honestly surprised you hadn’t passed out from the pain yet, but maybe you were running on adrenaline or shook, all she was certain about was that she needed to be there for you, in one way or another.

“Hi bug, you’re doing so well, being so brave. They are going to take good care of you, I promise. I love you so so much, and I’ll be there very soon, you’ve got this bug,” she told you before Steph took the phone back to her ear as the medics needed to move you, “we’re coming, our flight is in like an hour, we are actually about to leave now,” she informed her club teammate as she watched her fiance leave the bedroom wheeling a suitcase behind her.

______

You were immediately taken into surgery, where they did x-rays and scans. You woke up a few hours later surrounded by machines, unable to feel your left leg, but your left shoulder and torso ached badly, but quickly you noticed Steph, Sam, Leah, Lia and Alexia all sitting around the white washed sterile room. The people who you looked up to in your life and who inspired you, all in a hospital room, to be there for you, for some it meant taking time out of their teams olympic tournament. Maybe even risking unfair punishment and her mental health for one. For two others it meant getting on a plane last minute, dropping all other plans, including the IVF appointment they had waited a year for, not knowing when the next one would be, willingly letting go of their hope to have kids in the near future for you. In that moment you realised how much you meant to them, never before had the meaning of you to them been so tangible, they meant the universe and more to you, but maybe you meant ever more than that to them.

Leah noticed your eyes open and moved beside your bed, “Hey bug, how are you feeling?” she said ever so softly, and you just blinked groggily at her as she leant in to kiss your forehead mumbling “I love you very much,” before her hands moved to cup your face and her thumbs wiped away the silent tears that had started to fall from your eyes. The others all got up and left not only to find a doctor but give you two a moment of privacy.

“Hi, Y/N, nice to see you awake, I’m Dr NAME and this is Dr NAME, we were the two surgeons who operated on you,” one of the doctors spoke as they walked in, smiling at you, you kind of nodded at them and watched as their gaze turned to Leah before going through your chart, “and you’re Leah,” she nodded at them. “Okay so,” he started talking but you were too tired to listen and zoned out, hearing the words, dislocated, hairline fracture, Iliofemoral and Pubofemoral. You would eventually come to find those are the things that happened to your, during the fall your tore your  Iliofemoral and Pubofemoral ligaments, which then meant when Oberdorf’s head hit your thigh it was a lot easier for your hip to dislocate which it did, you had a hairline fracture in your femoral neck but it was unknown which mechanics of the injury caused that, sometimes they would insert a pin but as yours was only small and you were young, they didn’t, it also meant they likelihood of you returning to football was higher, however you still would most likely never return.

You were stuck in Paris until the end of the tournament, the risk of you flying back home versus the ‘risk’ of you staying there were incomparable and so you and your crutches, along with your bandaged hip, sporting the equivalent of a hinged knee brace but for a hip over your leggings, were dragged along to the final match, the first time you had been in the public's eye properly since your injury. You were dreading this match for multiple reasons. It meant you would be in the media’s sight, and you would also have to interact with the people you had been ignoring. But even more it meant you had to watch your teammates and ‘family’ get to do the one thing you had ever dreamt of, the thing that was almost never going to happen now. You stood alongside Sam during the national anthem, wearing an official match jersey, your own name on your back, as a tear rolled down your cheek, which after the anthem Sam wiped away before hugging you tightly. She understood the pain to some extent, however she knew well and truly before the olympics started the team could make it to the final and she would be standing on the sidelines, for you it was different, you should’ve been on that pitch today, if it wasn’t for your injury you would’ve been starting, as the main forward, but that didn;t matter now, you would probably never start for the matildas or any football club/team again, she knew it, the team knew it, the world knew it, you even knew it, you just didn’t want to have to face that reality.

The whistle blew and every single member of the Australian’s on the sidelines got up and sprinted onto the pitch, except you, every single A.O.C football personal was on the pitch celebrating, but you weren’t. You couldn't, you couldn’t get up, but that's not the reason you were not on the pitch, you didn’t want to be, you didn’t deserve to be.

The next second the whole bench shook, Kyra had catapulted herself into the row of seats in front of you, you looked up, her face shiny from sweat, holding the world's biggest grin, “come join us,” you just shook your head, “I can help, I’ll be sensible and careful. Please?” she begged, causing a tear to roll down your cheek, causing her face to quickly drop as she moved to hug you, making you cry more, causing more girls to start to filter over to you, all leaving with dampened moods, all having failed attempts at cheering you up and failing to convince you to join them. All celebrating as they walked across the stage receiving their medals, whilst they lifted the trophy, but the pain in their eyes was evident, you watched Kyra bite her nail nervously as she looked into your direction, you were still sat in you seat, having refused to collect your medal, you played 15 minutes you didn’t deserve it. You burdened the team, Steph spent way too long laying awake in her bed, the moment replaying in her head everytime she closed her eyes. Kyra cried herself to sleep almost every night, she missed you, you might’ve been with them physically but that was it, she knew she would have to go back to Arsenal without you and most likely never play with you again and that hurt her. Macca couldn’t shake the feeling of horror that ran through her body as she heard your scream so loud and clear from the other end of the pitch, she hadn’t even had her hearing aids in and yet it sounded like you were inside her ear. If anything the team had won in spite of you, you had in no way helped them get there, you were the cause for their pain, you didn’t deserve a medal at all.

“Bebita,” Alexia said softly as she bobbed down in front of you, “No,” you harshly snapped at her, “Et mereixes una medalla, les vas aconseguir aquí i vas formar part de l'equip sigui el que passi. (You deserve a medal, you got them here and you were part of the team no matter what),” you just shook your head at her, “Bé, doncs, almenys deixa'm agafar el teu i guardar-lo segur per a tu, per quan el vulguis després. (Well then at least let me take yours and keep it safe for you, for when you want it later.)” you shrugged your shoulders and so she placed your medal around her neck, for you. Before pulling you into a tight hug and not letting go for a very long time. The no you said to Alexia had been the last word you spoke to anyone before flying back under the intense supervision of the medics to England, where Lia and Leah meet you at the airport, taking you home.

______

“What’s wrong?” your sister asked, having put up with your attitude for way too long knowing you needed to break and rather than continuing to walk on eggshells waiting for you to break she decided to do it the hard way, allowing you to use her as a punching bag until you broke.

“What’s wrong, you’re fucking joking right, are you somesort of imbesile,” you sneered at her, “Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact I’ll never fucking play again, my career is over at 18, the rug has literally been swept out from under my feet, and none of it was even my fault, noone even got a fucking red, for ending my career, the ref decided that a career ending injury didn’t equate to a red. I had to watch as my friends my family lived out my dream, my fucking dream, I’m olympian, but am I really, 15 fucking minutes out of a minimum 540 minutes, I’m 2% of an olympian, I suppose that 2% counts though right? It’s not like I helped the team, I made it harder, I don’t deserve a medal but everyone else seems to think otherwise.”

“But you do bug, you were there, you got your team there, you were going to be the best young player of the year,” Leah tried to reason with you.

“Going being the key word there, I was going to win a Balloon d’or, I was going to be in the fifa best 11, I was going to win a golden boot, I was going to be and do so many things, but going is past tense, it’s never going to happen, I’m never going to get any awards ever again.” You shouted at her.

“Where are you going?” Leah asked as she watched you stand up, the room having fallen to silence moments ago.

“Away from you, I-, I-” you shook your head trying to clear your mind, Leah stepped closer to you, knowing your walls were about to crumble.

“What am I meant to do now, Le?” you asked, completely and utterly broken, “What happens now?”

Leah swallowed back her emotions “I don’t know bug, I’m sorry,” you collapsed into her and she picked you up being mindful of your hip, before lying down on the couch, your body on top of hers. You buried your head into her neck as you sobbed, your whole body shook, and all Leah could do was hold you, and try and comfort you and reassure you in a moment where there were no answers, how are you meant to comfort someone and give them reassurance when the doctors don’t even know. How are you meant to tell someone it's going to be okay when the only way to know what will happen is for them to go through an excruciating rehab process only to then very likely be told they could never play again.

____________________________________________________________

You were cleared to fly long distances 3 months after your surgery, 2 months since you returned, so that’s what you did. You flew to Australia, bought an apartment and started a new life essentially, one that not everyone knew your past in intricate detail, however being a Matilda most people knew who you were but it was different.

Charlie got Lachlan to keep an eye on you and so you did things with his friends and sometimes even his team. You found yourself getting closer to one of his friends in particular, he always made sure you weren't left behind because they were walking too fast, he was ‘coincidentally’ at the same rehab gym you went to when you first put weight on your leg still relying on your crutches heavily, he celebrated for you but quite, not to make you uncomfortable, he offered to drive you to your appointment the one where you were allowed to use only one crutch, he celebrated for you then too, a bit more openly but not nearly as enthusiastic as he would’ve liked. You invited him to the appointment where you would start walking without any assistance, he celebrated quite loudly for you that day, insisting he needed to take you out for dinner, you accepted it, hoping it would lead to something more, and it did. You quickly found yourself spending more time at his house than yours, more of your belongings there than you had at your own home. He was honestly perfect, and for whatever reason you had this feeling that a shoe would drop any second. 

— FLASHBACK — 

One night he woke up to you crying in your sleep, sitting up slightly he noticed there was blood on the sheets underneath you. Shaking you softly, he woke you up, before quietly saying “Baby, I think you’ve come on.”

“Shit,” you sighed out before curling into a tighter ball, “Why don’t you go have a shower and I’ll change the sheets,” He offered as he kissed your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, rolling over to your back, “why?”, “because I’ve bleed all over the sheets, sorry,” “Baby, it's just a little blood, it’s okay, don’t worry,” you nodded before getting up and hobbling to the bathroom.

“Hey, babe you okay?” he asked as he approached the bathroom door, having finished changing the sheets, you didn’t reply to him, but he heard the muffled sounds of you crying, “I’m coming in okay,” he told you before softly opening the door, seeing you on the floor, your legs curled underneath you, as you sobbed, he bobbed down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “Do I need to take you to the hospital? I don’t think this is normal,” you shook your head as you reached to grab his hand as another wave of pain washed over you, taking a deep breath you fought off the nausea before blurting out “endometriosis,” hoping he could make conclusions from that.

“Do you need your tablets or something?” he asked and you looked at him confused. How did he know?

“My sister's girlfriend has it, I don’t know much about it but I know some things. Are your tablets in the drawer in the kitchen with the tape and stuff, are they the things in the arsenal pouch?” He asked and you nodded, being in too much pain to talk. He quickly left and returned, with your tablets, some water and heat packs.

“Not blue box,” you told him and he nodded before popping out some of the other tablets as per the labels and handing them to you.

“Do you want me to hold you?” he asked as a tear rolled down your cheek, “But-” you tried to protest weakly.

“I honestly don't care. I just want to help, I want you to feel better,” you nodded shyly at him and he picked you up placing you in his lap as he handed you a heat pack, you curled up and hid your head in his chest, falling asleep eventually.

— END FLASHBACK — 

You met up with some of the Matildas’ for coffee during one of their camps, and he and Lachlan came, him on the basis he was Lachlan’s friend.

“How long?” Steph asked as she walked alongside you, both slightly behind the others.

“What?” “You know what I mean, how long?” “I don’t know, it started as friends and then the lines blurred and then somewhere along the way he asked me to be his girlfriend,” she hummed in response, “Have you told Leah?” “What do you think,” you asked her before Harper ran up to you.

Later that night you were lying in bed next to him, head resting on his shoulder as his finger drew soft circles on your hip, over your leggings, when your phone buzzed.

Steph: You need to tell Leah. I know you don’t want to, but just think about it this way, at least you won't be telling her in person. But no, I seriously think telling her sooner rather than later would be better.

You sighed after reading her message dropping your phone on the mattress next to you, you dreaded telling your sister, especially when you already barely spoke.

“What’s wrong,” he asked as you rolled on top of him, letting out a heavy breath.

“Steph figured us out and is insisting I tell Leah,”  “Oh, why don’t you want to tell Leah?” “Do you want to tell your brother?” “Shit no,” “Exactly,” there is a pause,  “but I do need to tell Leah, especially if I am going to go back when you go on holidays,”

“You can stay here, you know that right?”

“No, I have to go back. Barça wants to announce my departure officially anyway. I don’t have a choice,” you sighed out, “what if I messaged and then just threw my phone out”

“You know you can’t do that,” he chuckled softly, causing you to groan as you rolled off him.

“I don’t want to have to face them all, I ran away, they probably want nothing to do with me anymore anyway,”

“I don’t know if that’s true, Steph and Kyra were so happy and excited to see you today, so was the rest of the team but especially them.” he said and you nodded before he spoke again, “Well I don’t know about Charli, she was too busy catching up with Lachy to even notice you were there I think,” you laughed at his comment, you turned the TV onto the Arsenal match which was about to start as the pair of you feel into silence.

“Would you ever want kids?” he asked you out of the blue.

“Um, yeah, most likely, especially now it won’t be interrupting my career,” you tried to joke, “why?” “Oh, just curious, you were just really good with Harper and her little brother today, and I don’t know why but that thought came up. Also, doesn't Steph have a kid?” 

“Yeah, he stayed in London with Dean for this camp,” he just nodded as your attention both went back to the game.

____________________________________________________________

“What do you want for lunch?” Leah asked as you sat down in one of the kitchen stools as Leah and Lia walked into the kitchen. Leah had picked you up from the airport but as Harry was actually on holiday with his friends you went your separate ways, however you had a lunch planned for tomorrow with him, you, Leah and Lia.

“Not eggs,” Lia injected before you could answer, you were confused about her answer but just nodded anyway.

“Um, I don’t really care, I’m not that hungry anyway,”

They decided on Ham Sandwiches for lunch and as you ate you caught up with them, before ending up on the couch watching TV with them, they were still talking however you had fallen more silent, leaning into Leah’s side for a hug, “You okay? You’ve just gone a bit quiet and look a bit pale,” Leah asked looking down at you.

“Mmm, I’m just a bit tired,” you admitted.

“Why don’t you go up to sleep, we have no plans until tomorrow.” you nodded before moving to go upstairs.

______

“Bug you okay?” Leah asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing her hand over your face causing you to stir slightly.

“Mmmm, sorry do you want me to go?” you mumbled half asleep.

“No, it’s okay, you can stay in here, just wanted to check you were okay,” you nodded slightly before letting out a rather chesty cough, “you sure about being okay?” you just groaned at her before rolling over, feeling her slip in behind you and pull you in for a hug, it felt just like old times.

“What are you doing in here?” Leah asked as she entered the bathroom, obviously just waking up from her midday nap.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” you informed her.

“Oh, scoot forward,” she instructed you and you moved away from the wall. She sat behind you before pulling you onto her lap, you collapsed back into her, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said breaking the silence as you turned your head on her shoulder so you could look at her, “I should’ve told you, you did some much for me, you were there for me my whole life and then I just up left, no warning, nothing, and then I basically ghosted you,”

“It’s okay,” she told you

“But it wasn’t, I even told you about Harry over text, the first thing I told you in months after not even telling you I could walk without crutches was that I had a-” “Boyfriend,” “Well yeah,”

“I understand, and I understood, it was hard, don’t get that wrong, but it isn’t the only time one of us has just upped and left, I think you’d remember how once I got my professional contract and I had to move, I didn’t tell you, I couldn’t bare to see your sad little face when I told you, so I just left, at least you had a reason, I didn’t have one at all, and you technically had two reasons, the injury and payback,”

“I forgot about that, but thank you for reminding me, I will use it if Mum or Dad get angry at me,” 

“Please don’t, but I do understand. You did it for you, you needed to find yourself, figure out who you were without football, which meant you needed to be separated from everything that reminded you of what was once, of what you loved and still love, and that included us, and it;s okay. I was never angry, I just really missed you, you’re still my baby sister, and no matter what happens you will still be the most important person in my life.”

“Oh,” you felt your gut sink at her confession, suddenly the feeling of being sick became very real, “I’m sorry,” you replied quietly as you moved your head back flat against her shoulder, staring at the ceiling. You felt your mouth fill with saliva and closed your eyes taking some deep breaths.

“Should we cancel lunch tomorrow?” Leah asked as you continued to take deep breaths knowing why you were.

“No,” you said as you shook your head, the nausea having finally passed, “I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep more,”

“Okay, also Lia has an appointment with the medics tomorrow just so they can do some checks and stuff, it's before lunch but you’ll probably have to come and just hang out at the club because otherwise we might be late to lunch,” you nodded your head before you felt yourself dozing off.

____

“Hey, how are you?” Aaron asked as he walked into the gym followed by Declan, you had decided to do some of your rehab exercises while you waited for Lia and Leah.

“Yeah, pretty good. You?” You replied kindly

“Alright, know much about your prospects yet?” he asked, referring to your hip, you froze, not knowing what to say.

“Um, not yet, still another month until I find out,” you lied, you had already been told, but you weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet.

As you continued with your exercises, you couldn’t help but notice your heart rate get faster and your chest get tighter as time passed. When you felt yourself slightly shaking you slipped out of the gym, sliding down the wall in the hallway, your actions didn’t go unnoticed by declan who quickly followed you out but walked past you down to the medics office. He returned following behind Leah, who bobbed down next to you before looking up at him.

“Please don’t tell anyone about what we were speaking about in there,” she asked him

“Of course I wouldn’t Leah, it’s your own personal information, I’m sorry for interrupting, it’s just that,” he gestured towards you, “and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“No thank you,” she said before shifting her focus to you.

“Hey, what's going on? You okay? Do you feel sick?” she asked in a soft, concerned voice, you couldn’t manage to speak so you just shook your head, “Take some deep breaths, you’re okay, it’s okay, nothing happened, you’re safe.”

“I can’t play,” you managed to get out after some deep breaths, the words almost immediately lifting a weight of your chest, “I’m never going to play again, I can’t,” you told her before breaking down into tears.

“Oh Bug, I’m so sorry,” she said as she pulled you in for a tight hug.

“How much longer are we here for?” you asked as you pulled away, having calmed down slightly.

“Probably ten more minutes. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“A little, once I was out long term the offers started to come out anyway but I haven’t really considered them. I’m thinking of coaching though, I just can’t decide,” Leah hummed in response to you, and you sat in silence, just embracing her presence until Lia came out.

____________________________________________________________

After you spoke with Leah and Lia about not playing it was decided you needed to ask someone who wasn’t affected by your choice in any way. So you decided on going to Barcelona at the same time as Harry, for different reasons though. Hoping Alexia could help and give you some guidance.

So that’s how you found yourself sat in your seat on the plane as it sat on the tarmac waiting to disembark, your right knee bounced up and down uncontrollably as you nervously looked up and down the aisle. When you felt a hand placed on your knee, you jumped slightly before relaxing into the touch slightly, “It’s going to be okay, stop worrying, from what you’ve told me they will only care that you are okay and safe, they might be slightly annoyed but they’ll understand.” You nodded whilst stilling looking around, “and remember you can call me at anytime and I can come to you at anytime you want me to, the boys won't mind, they might just make a condition that they have to meet the team if that occurs,” you both let out a light laugh at that.

As you walked out of customs his hand slipped into yours, and you dropped your head onto his shoulder, causing him to kiss your temple. Just ahead you saw Lucy, who had raised her eyebrows, ignoring her you turned to him and hugged him. “I’m going to miss you so much,” you mumbled into his neck, “Same, but remember you can call whenever you need and I’ll call every night,” you nodded before you pulled your head out of his neck and your lips connected, your legs lifting to wrap around his waist as he wrapped his arms around yours.

“All right you two, stop sucking face, we need to go,” Lucy said interrupting you.

You huffed at her and she gave you the same look she would give you when you huffed at her for not getting you second ice cream when you were younger at England camps.

“Didn’t take you as someone who would be into PDAs Mini Leah,” Lucy teased you knowing the nickname would set you off.

“Well Lucy, when you’re in love, those things don’t matter,” you replied to her dramatically as you followed her out of the airport.

____

Its safe to say walking into the place you called home two years ago was emotional, and as you stood there waiting for Lucy to get everything she needed out of the car, Alexia and Mapi walked by, however Mapi halted, she was stopped in her tracks, as she was behind alexia who hadn't noticed you, and kept walking.

“Ale, Alexia,” Mapi stood there calling for her, “Alexia” she shouted,

“Què (what)”, Mapi couldn’t do anything other than gesture to you with her head, Alexia came running back down the hall and froze when she saw you.

“What’s wrong with them?” Lucy asked as she finally walked through the doors.

They stuttered, not being able to get words out, Lucy just ignored them and pulled you along behind her, to the pitch, where everyone was celebrating. Making your way over to where Ingrid, Frido and Ona stood, all giving you a hug, before a small girl came running up to you, “opp, Klem,” she said whilst she made grabby hands at you, she was Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter.

“I’m sorry, I can’t pick you up because I have an ouchie hip,” you said as you looked at her softly before looking back up at your old teammates, who all gave you sorry looks.

“Please don’t do that, that’s not why I came,” you sighed out before walking over to where Olga was standing by herself.

“Hi,” she said as she smiled and hugged you, you caught Alexia looking at you with a concerned look from the corner of her eye, Lucy and Kiera were talking to her and Mapi, most likely about how you didn’t want to be treated differently etc.

“Hi, is she mad?” you asked Olga, stepping away from the hug slightly.

“What?” “That I didn’t come to the wedding?” “A little upset Si, but not mad, more concerned, but we understood.” you nodded at her “it did take a week to calm her down after she found out you left England, she wasn’t mad though, more scared of whether you were safe or not,” you nodded weakly as you bit your bottom lip.

“Bebita,” Alexia said as she came up to you hugging you, before standing between you and Olga, almost the whole team following behind, creating a circle as they all started talking, it felt just like old times, like no time had passed, but it had almost been two years, you were struggling to follow the conversation like you used to, having not used your spanish in so long, everything was bringing back old times, old memories, memories you wished you could keep living, but this chapter of your life was over now, you moved to stand in front of Alexia and hug her, she wraps her arms around you whilst continuing her conversations, your shoulders started to shake softly as you started to cry and everyone looked at her concerned however she shook her head, indicating for them to continue and ignore it. After a while you seemed to have managed to calm down and you pulled away from Allexia slightly, she cupped your face in her hands, “Whatever happens, it's going to be okay.” you gave her a weak nod before moving to stand next to her.

“We are going for dinner at Ingrid and Mapi’s tonight, most of the team will be there and I think Harder and Erikson are coming too, you can come if you want.” Alexia said as you entered the ever so familiar house.

“Um, okay,” you said as you placed your phone on the table and went to grab a drink from the fridge before hearing your phone ring, Alexia caught a glimpse of the screen as she handed it to you. She knew exactly who it was from the look on your phone, not who the person was but who they were to you.

“Don’t tell anyone please, not many know yet,” she nodded, “do I get to meet this boy?”

“Alexia,” Olga called out sternly from the living room, clearly she still was in charge, something that hadn’t changed.

“Maybe, I think his friends and him are going to the game this weekend,” you said before you answered the phone and retreated to the spare room noticing how it was still your room and not a spare room at all.

____

You were sitting on the floor with Hailee, having been dragged away from your conversation with Mapi, Ingrid, Alexia and Olga by the small girl into her playroom. Not that you really minded though.

“They’ve told you you can’t play again haven’t they,” you were startled slightly by the unfamiliar voice, looking up to see Madga leaning on the door frame.

“How did you know?”

“I don’t know, I just could tell, maybe because I only knew you as football, where as they knew you as football and you, so they can’t see it. Does anyone know?”

“Yeah, Lia and Leah, and someone else, and now also you supposedly,” you flatly replied.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” you looked at her blankly, “I’ll take that as nothing, what if you came over to Frido’s while the team is at training and Pernille and I help you decide, we have no connection, it could help,”

“Bayern don’t need a new coach?” she shook her head, and you just nodded slightly, “okay so it’s settled then,” she said before turning around, “Frido, do you have a big whiteboard at home? If no, we need to buy one before tomorrow morning,” you heard her yell out as she walked away.

____________________________________________________________

Having made your decision with the help of Magda and Pernille you returned to England with Harry. To tell Arsenal, after it was official, just not yet announced, you went for lunch with Leah, Lia and Harry to tell them all, Lia and Leah took it well however Harry jumped out of his seat saying he needed to be somewhere, and since he wouldn’t return your calls, so you had no clue if you would see him or not, maybe he was leaving you.

“Turn around,” Steph said as she saw Harry running to the facility doors where you were waiting for Lia and Leah to get out of the car, having a chat with Steph.

“Will you move in with me?” He blurted out, slightly puffed as he reached you.

“What?” You questioned not understanding what he meant.

“I didn’t answer your call, or your message or your subsequent calls because I was doing something, for you, for me, for us. Remember how I played Rugby Union in high school,” you nodded, “well, I wasn’t ignoring you because I was mad you took the job, I wasn’t ignoring you at all, I was trialling for a rugby club, so we could be together, I love you too much and you mean too much for me to go back halfway across the world from you. They offered me a contract, it isn’t the greatest, but it will do, anything that means I can stay with you is perfect,” tears started to fall from your eyes, “I’m sorry,” he said slightly panicking, questioning if he said something wrong.

“No, no,” you said as you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and picking your legs up “Thank you,” you mumbled into his ear before placing your head on his shoulder, not believing it.

“I’m assuming it worked?” Leah asked as she walked towards the three of you, he nodded in her direction as you let go, “ready to do this?” your sister asked as she looked at you and you nodded, starting to feel nervous agin.

____

“I’m coming back to Arsenal,” you told everyone as you stood in front of them, Harry standing on the sides, Jonas inisting he come in considering he was there already, they all cheered slightly before you interrupted them, “but not in the way you probably all want, I’m going to be part of the staff, the coaching team, I-,” your voice cracked, as you took a shaky breath “I won’t-, I-I can’t ever play again. I will never be able to play again, it’s uncertain whether I will be able to run without pain, let alone play,” you sniffed, you felt panic rise within you, “I’m sorry,” you said quietly before walking out the door tears streaming down your face, trying to ignore the looks of sorry, disappointment or confusion. Leah’s immediate reaction was to stand up and go to you, but Lia tugged her arm forcing her back down in her chair, gesturing to the figure that was rushing out the door after you. 

-

“I’m sorry, I-'' you blubbered out as someone came towards you, “Hey, none of that, baby none of this is your fault, and you literally have nothing to apologise about,” he said as he stood in front of you, you immediately fell into him at the sound of his voice and felt his strong arms hold you tight as you buried your head in his neck, he started swaying you and gave you a small kiss on the side of your head every now and then, trying to calm you down, knowing that was probably one of the hardest things you had to say, he knew you always wanted to finish your career at Arsenal, and now that was never going to happen, at least in the way you wanted, you would never be a Matilda again, you would never walk out onto a football pitch in the same way again, your goals were changing and you were struggling with that. He knew that, no matter how much you tried to hide your feelings.

The door creaked as it opened and Harry looked over to it, seeing Steph walk out, who handed him a water bottle as she gave him a soft smile before walking back into the room. He continued to sway you both slightly, keeping one hand around you as he took a quick sip from the bottle.

“Baby, do you want some water?” you nodded, taking the bottle of him and drinking out of it.

-

Leah was still inside crying into Lia’s shoulder, most people had left the room now giving everyone a bit of space. “Do you want to go home? Is this about what just happened or this morning?”

“All of it. It’s stupid, I just feel like I’m losing her now too, and it’s dumb, she was never mine in the first place but-” Leah confessed, before getting cut off by Lia.

“It’s not stupid Le, we have a lot of things happening in our life, a lot of news, and not a lot of time to process it all, it’s hard, and I know you feel like you have to be strong for her, for me, for us but you don’t, it’s okay,” Lia tried to reassure her.

“I shouldn’t be upset, I mean you're the one going through it all, and here I am complaining about my life.” Leah hiccuped.

“Hey, I might be the only one going through it physically but mentally we are both going through it, and you have more on your mind then I do, I understand, you don’t have to apologise for being upset, no matter if I’m experiencing worse, we are a team forever and always no matter what happens, no matter whether we have an addition to our team or not.” Leah nodded before pulling away from her and standing up noticing you had come back inside.

She pulled you towards you and wrapped you in a much needed hug, you didn’t want to let go, and neither did she.

____________________________________________________________

2028 Olympic Games

As the final whistle blew your players immediately ran over to you and your staff, celebrating as a team. 

Commentator One: And they’ve done it, the Matildas have won the Olympics for the second time in a row. 

Commentator two: Y/N Williamson has led the Matildas to victory after a drought, a much needed piece of silverware for the team that was starting to lose the country's hope.

It was a risky decision for Football Australia to choose you as new head coach, even you knew it, especially as you would only be joining the team in person at camp three weeks before the Olympics started, due to circumstances, but you started work much earlier than that, much to everyone's disbelief. You were however quickly ushered away from your team for a post match interview, causing you to catch sight of your sister who has collapsed onto the floor in tears. Taking a mental note to go over and comfort her later.

“Do you want to go see your Auntie?” You said to the two small people who clutched onto your hands as you walked onto the pitch.

“We-ah,” “we see Weah,” they piped up at the mention of her and you let go of their hands, “go on then,” you watched as they ran over to her, smiles bright, not knowing the meaning of the moment that just happened, them being so happy just to see their Aunt. 

“Alessia, hand the baby over,” you said to her as she held the newest addition to the Williamson family.

“Do you want to go say hi to your Mummy?” you asked the 3 month old as you placed her against your chest.

Leah’s face softened even more as she watched you approach her with her daughter, “you know, I’m never going to be able to thank you enough or repay you for this,” she said as you passed Lilly over to her, “but maybe you taking the gold away from me, means I don’t have to.”

“I told you, it’s nothing, honestly, you don’t have to repay me, buuut…..” you dragged on, she raised an eyebrow, “can you take the boys tonight, I have some celebrating to do,” you told her as she rolled her eyes.

“You literally carried our baby for us, I do owe you, and yes of course I’ll take the boys tonight, I need some quality time with them before they leave me for Australia,” she replied.

“It’s only two weeks, it's just a short camp, and it’s time we went on one of Daddy’s camps and meet all their uncles, but they honestly think they are meeting Kangaroos, they don’t quite understand that Wallabies is just the name of the team” she laughed at your comment before pulling you in for a hug. It sounds cliche but you knew in that moment your life had turned out perfect, it is nowhere near what you imagined but you honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

[zachsucr]

WOOO THE FIRST ONE IS HERE!!!

Funny enough, but my first ever drawing based on Confinium was with Navigator and not the Pilot (who still is my favourite to this day ABSOLUTELY ISN'T OBVIOUS YEAH). So, this Navi drawing was made in the summer of 2018 in my first sketchbook. Damn, I was 15 at the time...

I loved every character in the game, but Pilot resonated with me more than anyone else. Maybe his character is just something that is closer to me personally. So, I liked Pilot so much that I made a felted toy after him. It's still one of my favourites (I also have felted Zacharie and Bad Batter's head, but I consider them ancient at this point, and they look like they have seen some shit) and I brought it with me to the Black Sea one time. Me and my family traveled there by the car, 3 000 km to the sea and then 3 000 km back to my hometown, so that lil' guy have seen a bunch of russian cities and beautiful landscapes on our way B)

I also made some of my drawings in not so pleasant periods of my life (specifically the two last ones). I guess I got some sense of relief from drawing certain scenes from the game, trying to put my feelings in the atmosphere of those pieces.

I still come back to the game from time to time. The first time I played Confinium was in 2018, but only a year ago I found this "Bendy and the Ink Machine" song reference when you make Pilot observe the sheeps for a couple of times. That's actually what I really like about the original OFF itself and It's fangames. You can come back to the game and still manage to find something new for yourself each time you visit it.

By the way, Penta (my fav OFF OC) was originally made to be a Confinium OC, BUT THEN SOMETHING WENT HORRIBLY WRONG and now he's a character of his own story, which I want to make real someday hopefully.

And for the last, I also still have some old cosplays on Pilot and Omni in Pony Town eheheh

So that concludes my expirience with the game and it's characters, I guess. Thank you Xin for making this amazing game. Even if it's not completed, It still brings joy and happy memories to me and a lot of people who played it. Thank you for leaving a print on my teenage years. When you ever feel down, I hope that you will remember that there are people from all around the globe that appreciate you and the things you do. You matter.

(If anyone wants to do something similar to this post, you're more than welcome! No need for tagging or anything, just make your fav creators feel appreciated by telling your own stories and some nice words to them!)

[cybersuitpersona]

The comeback

Hopefully, the last comeback.

I have gained and lost a lot during the last few weeks, even months. I had to ask myself "am I really ready to stop binging? why do I keep looking for excuses?"

I had many tumblr-accounts that have been on and off over and over again. And I want THIS to be the last one. The last time.

Why, you may be asking. Why should I finally be able to beat my demons, stay strong, get healthy and lean?

I'm tired of this life. Living like this, is destroying me. I don't know who I am when I look in the mirror. I wanna dress up nicely so, so bad. But I feel so uncomfortable. So, here's the last time of reactivating a Tumblr account:

My current weight, and also my highest ever weight, is 80kg

I started developing more frequent knee pain, due to my fluctuating weight.

My birthday is in exactly 13 weeks. Realistically, I should be able to lose 15 kg in this time period, which is what my goal is. -15kg by Christmas Eve, -31kg in total (no time limitations). It is my 25th birthday to be exact. I've spent a quarter of a century in a body I didn't like, fat, unhealthy, unhappy. I deserve to feel better and I want to mark a new chapter of my life. By becoming who I am on the inside.

It's just 13 weeks, maybe I will reach my goal and stop there because I'm happy with the results. Just 13 weeks. Only 13 monday-shifts left. Only 13 short workdays on Thursdays left. Only 13 weeks. Only 13 Sundays of saying "let's not get takeout today and eat something fresh". Only 13 weeks of limiting my caloric intake, drinking water, quitting sugar and fried foods, going to the gym 3 times a week, and walking frequently.

I. Will. Do. It. This time, I will not automatically think "I will quit this shi tomorrow anyways"

I hope you stick around for updates. I'm ashamed, but I'm sure some people feel the same way.

Updates

HW: 80,6kg (30.09.2024)

CW: 78,2kg

LW (in this "streak"): 78,2kg

🏆 Goals:

🏅gw1: 77kg ⬜ New Make-up

🏅gw1: 75kg 🟨 Get nails done

🏅gw2: 73kg 🟧 Thai Massage

🏅gw3: 71kg 🟥 New Outfit

🏅gw4: 69kg 🟪 Haircut or Sportswear

🏅gw5: 67kg 🟦 New medium Jeans

🏅gw6: 64kg ⬛ New Sportswear

🏅gw7: 60kg ⬛ smexy Underwear set

🏅gw8: 55kg ⬛ Bellybutton piercing

🎖️ugw: 49kg ⬛ Boobie OP

[elysianwing]

Context

Around two decades ago in the final days of my senior year of high school, I discovered my love for writing. For poetry. For prose. I bounced around on several blogs(which were the fucking raddest things on the internet at the time) but I couldn't find any that felt comfortable enough to make my home. Until I found a site called Xanga, that is. I took to it immediately, and began what was the most prolific period in my life, artistically. Through Xanga I found about 15 (or so) aspiring writers that impressed/inspired me enough to want to be a better writer - and we knit ourselves together a fairly tight little community...which we kept to varying degrees until the site crawled under the porch and died quietly. I haven't really been able to recapture that same comfortability, nor have I been able to rekindle the fire that burned so hot back then inside my breast - to capture every thought as it occurred to me, and study them....doggedly searching for my truest self, that I was so sure I would find.

I'm hoping to push through these barriers, here, because if nothing else I fucking miss writing. I miss creating something that is *mine*. I miss the ritual of it. The truth of it. The catharsis. Moving forward, in addition to (hopefully) new pieces (and maybe some art here and there), I will begin posting many very old pieces(from the Xanga period) here, because they are the first third of the chapters in my book. They are the context behind who I am today. They are the map I've drawn as I've navigated the scenic route of my self. I warn you all though - the oldest pieces are fucking rough. I was an unabashedly angsty boy back then, and the earliest stuff I was writing was completely saturated with a potent cologne that smacked of smugness, narcissism, and self-deprecation(all of which constantly locked in a sort of 3-way death match to be crowned champion of my most unlikable traits). Last note regarding context - If anyone reading something of mine ever wants more context/explanation to a piece or a thought or whatever, feel welcome to ask me to clarify. I will happily answer. Posted 6/13/2003 at 3:50 AM

Pour your life into my hands as if it were the cup holding that which could change your past. I'll force it down, a toast to new mistakes. for I've learned nothing from the last.  drown your dreams in my ears I want nothing more than to be there when they fail to follow through. I will smile, and hold back my laugh. for a change in your luck is long overdue. dry your tears in the sound of the music I am sure you will need to hear. not long after, I'm confident you will say you had never seen things so clear. By Alexander Learmont https://www.patreon.com/Elysianwing

[blahandwhatever]

Most of my time since Christmas has been split between work and sleep and chilling, glad to have the big hurdle behind me, enjoying my own cozy-at-home version of the holidays. Played my new game. Finished decorating my tree a little too late, but good enough to enjoy for at least a few weeks. Didn't have as much of a mess to deal with at home as I had the past two years, maybe because there wasn't as much of a focus on shopping - for gifts, outfits, and home stuff - to derail my regular chores (which, to be fair, I've also gotten a bit better at).

Did some fussing over money and expenses, tired of being strained there. Got my first paycheck from my new job, but it was very small. The next one will also be smaller than I hoped due to things slowing down over the holidays. With other jobs also slowing down this month - and studies too - there was barely any improvement.

I got some cash for Christmas, finally learned I could actually get that into my online bank account by doing a PayPal cash deposit at a store like Walgreens and then transferring that to my bank, did that, and used the money toward rent and groceries.

Got a belated gift card from a job and used it to stock up on a few cosmetics I'd run out of, leaving me with more of the 'oh, this decidedly does do something for my skin' experiences that it's easy to forget after doing the same routine for years. I've seen a fair amount of the 'skincare is a scam' sort of sentiment lately, and I'm sorry, but no (at least not all of it).

Tomorrow I have a phone call (with an agency?) about a higher-paying job (hopefully that actual job and not just their jobs in general?), but I'm not getting my hopes up.

I've applied for jobs very, very little lately.

Once again, I failed to go to Chicago in December. I really wanted to but really didn't feel like it anytime in the past week and also really needed the $10-$15 I would've had to use for parking (not to mention gas). Oh well - I'll probably go in January, and it should still be good.

The Nielsen Neuro labs in Chicago have shut down, so that era is over.

This weekend I relaxed and cleared various things away - clothes piles, mail piles, post-it note piles, dead leaves/flowers on the balcony I should've swept in the fall - to start the new year on the right foot.

My mother called, asked if I had plans for today, said she had the day off. I'd never been interested in visiting again a week after the holidays, but at least she didn't suggest a sleepover this time, and, given how she can't spend the day with my father now, I agreed to go for dinner. It wasn't a particularly friendly invitation, and she spent most of the phone call complaining about my brother, who had had a surgical procedure and hadn't planned or communicated things as she thought he should have. I listened mostly patiently but felt tired of this.

Today I woke up very tired, though I thought I'd slept enough. Might have been recuperating from my period. Managed to get going and get there at a reasonable time. The forecast had predicted a sunny day, but it was just another gray one. Much as I sometimes bemoaned my inability to get out before dark in previous years, winter with neither sun nor snow isn't usually much of a sight to behold in the daylight.

We had dinner, which was okay for a while. My father was home and came down to exchange Happy-New-Years. I had sent him a text earlier, and he'd texted back. Had hoped not to see him. He asked if I'd heard from my brother, who was staying with friends. I said we'd exchanged Happy New Years. He said, somewhat petulantly, that my brother hadn't texted him. I clarified that I'd texted him first. He walked back upstairs bitching about my brother being a spoiled brat who didn't know he was supposed to text his parents. It was an attitude I'd dealt with myself too many times, spending most of my life tiptoeing around this man's ego, temper, and toxic family rule minefield. But in some ways, at least as a parent, he'd become better in recent years, so this was somewhat unexpected. I sat there still and silent for a while, too full to keep eating, thinking about how much I hated my father.

Soon enough, the conversation with my mother dried up, and she said, somewhat petulantly, that if I didn't have anything to talk to her about, she was going to go watch her TV show. Went upstairs and left me alone in the kitchen with my coffee and pie.

I felt a little guilty but also tired of being made to feel guilty all my life for not having enough to say. By someone who, for her part, cannot learn to ever enjoy a loved one's company in silence, and rarely takes me up on offers to do things besides just sitting and talking.

She returned after a while, and I questioned her attitude, and she once again acted like the victim. Said nobody cares about her or thinks about her feelings, among other things. Said she didn't like feeling like my spending time with her was forced. Said maybe we needed space from each other like I'd sometimes asked for myself. I just felt so tired and done.

I bothered responding only a little, and then I got going. I cried a little in the car. Back home, I texted my father about his earlier commentary on my brother. Reminded him, again, to stop taking out his childhood neglect and trauma on the wrong people. I hope he doesn't respond. Aside from Christmas, we haven't really talked since things between him and my mother were more dramatic.

Didn't manage to get anything else done that I was supposed to today - too tired and out of it. I'll do my real end-of-year reflections another day.

Whenever I see a 'What do you want to leave behind in [insert year]' type of thing, the #1 answer is always my family's bullshit. I know that will never completely end, and I'll never actually want to cut them off completely. But I am forever seeking an ever more lasting state of psychological immunity, of being above it all, along with occasional nips in the buds of some of the toxicity. History is the evolution of the consciousness of freedom (from your parents, in many cases).

[flyersheartbreaker]

Forever By Your Side| Isaac Ratcliffe

a/n: this is my first imagine that I am officially publishing! I am very excited to share all of my writing content and series with you guys :)

Pair: Isaac Ratcliffe x reader

Summary: Watching your boyfriend Isaac get seriously hurt during one of his home games and watching him battle through the toughest injury a hockey player could battle, so he can continue on with dream playing in the NHL

Warnings: Hockey Injuries, Cussing, Cute Fluff

Word Count: 3,321 words

It was just another ordinary Sunday afternoon watching a game live from the PPL center here in Allentown, Pennsylvania or so I thought. The game was going really well with the Phantoms up 3-1 on the Hershey Bears half way through the second period. There was your beloved star-studded boyfriend number 19 carrying the puck up against the boards through the neutral zone when suddenly bam everything went to complete silence, except for that shear sound that you wish you could so badly get out of you head.

I jumped out of my seat and darted up the stairs from the lower-level seats that I was sitting in with some of the other girlfriends. I can hear the god-awful scream ringing in my ears over and over again that was coming down from ice level. The crowd was silent, so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop and when that happens you know for a fact that it isn’t good. Nothing ever good comes from silence at a time like this and I needed to get down to the locker rooms as quick as possible.

Isaac got hit hard up against the boards and fell awkwardly down to the ground, and his right foot looked like it twisted the wrong way. He's had rough collisions before, but never like this. Isaac is a big dude that you surely didn’t want to ending up colliding with, but this time it looked like Isaac got the wrong end of the play. I never in my life ever heard him yell in absolute pain like the wat he was when the trainers and his teammates were trying to help his 6-foot-6 body off of the ice.

My heart was in my stomach as I was racing down the stairs that would lead me to the home locker rooms. I quickly flashed my team badge to the security guard Frank without saying a word. He must have known it wasn’t good either, as he told me to breathe and be careful myself as I jumped down the last few steps.

If Isaac had a season ending injury, it would kill him. He was just heating up and playing his best hockey yet and working his ass off day in and day out so he could eventually make the Flyers roster within this season or even next season for sure. But if his season is over that means his chances of getting to the NHL level could be too and that would just destroy him completely.

As soon as I rounded the corner to the trainer's office, I saw him being helped on to the examine table. His face was as red as a cherry, and he was in a lot of pain. The trainers quickly started icing the area the best that they could as they slowly untied his skate and too it off of him.

“He is definitely going to need some X-Rays done immediately and possibly an MRI as well depending on what the results of the X-Rays are.” The Phantoms trainer Brian Grogesky said to Neil who was one of the Phantoms physicians.

“Jeff and Robert are on their way down from the press box and getting the emergency X-Ray equipment ready. In the mean time you need to relax the best that you can Isaac.” Neil said to Isaac as Isaac tried his best laying down comfortably on the examine table.

Both Brian and Neil noticed me standing outside of the door of the trainer's room and signaled me to come on in, in hopes that Isaac could ease up and relax a little bit more with me by his side.

“Hello, y/n! Looks like we got a live one here and that big boy landed pretty hard on that ankle of his.” Brian said trying to make light of the situation.

Isaac sat up on his elbow and looked me dead in the eyes. I can see and feel the pan behind them, my heart sank even more for him. I just want him to be okay, I want him to be able to play the rest of this season, he worked way too fucking hard for this to happen to him.

“Hey babes, how is the pain?” I said walking over to Isaac and grabbing his hand while kissing him ever so lightly and carefully.

“It's a bitch babe if I am being honest. I’m trying not to think of the worst, but I can’t help it. This isn’t fair, why me? Why fucking me?” Isaac said in more frustration.

“Isaac, don’t get too far ahead of yourself. We don’t know the actual results just yet. But whatever the outcome is you can come back from it stronger than ever. Hockey injuries is sometimes apart of the game as silly and stupid as it sounds, but you’re a fighter and you got this.” Neil said as he placed another bag of ice on Isaac’s ankle.

“They are right babe, your team trainers, physicians and any other doctors have your best interests. Let’s get you into the X-Ray room and then go from there okay big guy.” I said while planting another kiss onto Isaac’s lips.

Jeff brought in some crutches for Isaac to use, so they can take him down the hall to get the X-Rays taking care of. I am hoping that is all that Isaac is going to need and that whatever it is, it's a quick recovery.

After a few short minutes Isaac was crutching back out of the X-Ray room with a look of disappointment on his face.

“Oh no babe...how bad is it?” I asked him while he collects himself.

“It’s not broken...but they are sending me for an MRI early tomorrow morning to see if that shows up with anything and then go from there.” He said in a low tone.

“Well, that is a plus sign that it isn’t broken. You got to be positive about this honey, you need to be optimistic. You can't be negative. Everything is going to work out for the best. Hopefully it's just a minor sprain and you will be back on the ice in no time.” You told Isaac as you wrapped yourself around his side.

All of Isaac’s staff and trainers helped Isaac out of the arena and to his car and safety got him into the passenger seat while, I got into Isaac’s driver's seat.

“Alright, make sure when you get home you put more ice on that ankle for at least 15-20 mins on and then same time off. Do it throughout the night if you can and also, make sure you are using the crutches as much as possible and for the love of God Isaac do not put any pressure on that ankle until after we get the MRI results and see exactly what is going on. We don’t want to make the injury any worse than what it could already be. Try to get some much-needed rest and we will see you in the morning.” Brian said closing the passenger door.

The ride back to Isaac’s apartment complex was extremely quiet. I didn’t know what to say or what to do, so I just let Isaac sit there and pounder in his thoughts alone without me distracting him. Which probably wasn’t a good idea, because I know my boyfriend, I know for a fact that he is thinking the worst possible scenario that he could think of right now.

I helped Isaac out of the car and into the elevators up to his apartment and got him comfortably settled on the couch with his foot/ankle elevated and two ice packs placed on the injured area.

“Do you want or need anything? You want me to bring out another pair of comfy clothes for you?” You asked Isaac as you placed a pillow behind his head/back and placed a blanket right by him as well.

“No, I’m fine...” He whispered as scrolled on his iPad to rewatch the ending of the game and rewatch highlights and the moment of his injury.

You so badly, wanted to say something along the lines to him like "babe don’t be watching that now, it wasn’t your fault, there was nothing that you could have done to prevented that from happening, so on and on.” But deep down you knew nothing would make him feel better until he knew what the main results were. And as the night went on, you could see the realization hit him that this was going to keep him out for a while. He just looked sad, and drained.

After a couple of hours, another X-Ray, and an MRI later, you and Isaac were sitting there waiting in the trainer's office for the results from both the trainer and team doctors.

Both Brian and Jeff walk in with a folder which I assume held the test results for Isaac’s ankle/foot.

“Well, the good news is the second X-Ray that we took this morning once again showed that there was no brake in both the ankle and the foot.” Brian said.

“And what about the MRI? What did the MRI show?” Isaac asked nervously.

I grabbed Isaac’s hand and interlocked his fingers with mine. I could see the look on both Brian’s, Jeff’s, and even Coach Gordon’s face that this news that they are about to give doesn’t seem to be very promising.

Jeff cleared his throat ever so calmly and spoke. “The MRI came back with a high ankle sprain injury which means we really don’t have a timetable for you to return to at this point of time. This type of injury is extremely difficult to recover from quickly. So, with that being said we need to place you on injury reserve indefinitely until we get more of a clear view on this injury.”

“Out indefinitely...so that could mean that I might be done for the season?” Isaac ever so softly spoke.

“Unfortunately, yes Rat...I am so sorry and with it being late into the season already we don’t want to risk anything further and do anymore damage to the ankle. Brian, Jeff and myself all agreed on shutting you down for the remainder of this year. So, it’s better for you to take this time to heal carefully and properly and then eventually rehab it back to full strength without any other necessary tests or worse case scenario surgeries. Then once you have healed properly, we can train and get you back to 100 percent for next year's rookie and training camp.” Coach Scott Gordon said while looking at both Isaac and myself.

My heart broke ever so much for Isaac, this isn’t fair. I know injuries can be a part of the game sometimes, but why did this have to happen to Isaac and why now?! He has been killing it day in and day out since being drafted in 2017. He deserves his chance at playing at the NHL and now with this setback is he ever going to make it to that level?

The ride to Isaac’s apartment was once again a quiet one and this time I don’t blame him. I mean how is he supposed to react to something like this? What is he supposed to say or do when your head coach, trainer and team doctor shut you completely down for God knows how long.

Isaac settled down on the couch and tossed his crutches to side and unstrapped his high ankle boot so he can comfortably rest his ankle on the pillow in front him.

"Baby, I am so fucking sorry that is happening, it’s not right nor is it fair to you." I said, resting my head on his shoulder while getting cozy next to him.

"What if this is it for me? What if I can't play anymore after this?" He asks, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't say that.  You being negative will only make that happen. You are a fighter Rat...you are one tough, strong as hell hockey player who will power through this. I promise you that." I said grabbing his hand and interlocking our fingers together, while placing a kiss on his hand.

A tear rolls down his cheek ever so slightly. "All I wanted to do was be that excitement that both the Lehigh and Philly fans need. All I wanted ever so badly was to have my chance to make it to the NHL level and it got taken away from me. Why do bad things happen to good people?" Isaac asked broken and frustrated.

Once he started crying, I had lost it. Nothing I could do, or say would take that pain away from him and it just broke my heart. I went into the kitchen and I just cried as grabbed him more ice packs from the freezer. How am I supposed to look at the man that I love, and not have my heart shatter like glass when I look into those eyes that were once so shiny, and bright, but now shows nothing at all?  I have no idea the pain he is going through or the frustrating emotions he is now going through as well and I feel terrible.

I eventually collected myself and walked back out into the living room and ever so easily and softly place the ice packs on the injured area and took my seat back on the couch next to Isaac.

"That's the crappy thing about life.” I breathed as I took a deep breathe myself and continued on. “For some reason, it always attacks the good ones, and praises the hell out of the bad ones." I sob, wiping away not only my own tears but also his tears once again. "We'll get through this. I promise. It'll be hard, and it'll be long, but we're going to pull through this." I tell him as I run my hand through his hair.

He squeezes my other hand tightly. "What if during my time out things don’t get better and I need to get surgery, and it's worse than they thought? That could happen. What if they see that my injury is worse than what they thought and that I am out on the shelf even longer and I completely miss this upcoming season as well? Or worse they tell me that I can't do this anymore?" He asks, gasping for air. "I don't want that to happen and I'm scared to death that it will."

I snuggled beside him even more then I already was, resting my head on his chest, sobbing harder than I was before, because I honestly hate when he thinks that he isn’t good enough or he thinks his career is over because of a minor setback or in this case a possible major setback. "Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? Just for now, it's a bump in the road. No journey to greatness is a smooth one Isaac. Whatever the hell happens next, we'll face it together as a team, because I am not leaving your side and letting you fight this injury alone. I know that you so badly want to break and that you feel like this the end of the road, but you need to keep pushing and listen to the training staff and follow their instructions."

"I love you so much." He tells me, sniffling. "Thank you for helping me with this, baby, I couldn’t do this without you" Isaac said while planting a soft and slow kiss on my lips

"I'll help you through anything. No matter what." I said while smiling and kissing him softly back.

It was battle to get Isaac’s ankle back to a healthy, normal, and stable ankle for a hockey player at his height and weight but we were able to do it. It was a long road and journey until Isaac was back out on the ice skating again and preparing himself for this upcoming training camp season.

Isaac looked and felt good, until one day right before the Flyers condensed training camp something didn’t seem right with him.

Isaac met up with Flyers trainer Jim McCrossin and after a deep examination we found out that Isaac was suffering from a fractured rib and a collapsed lung. We don’t know how exactly this had happen or when it happened. It could have been from when he fell during his ankle injury or from being hit during Rookie Camp, we don’t have the answers right now. And once again, here I am watching my boyfriend being completely destroyed and devastated all over again.

Isaac became instantly depressed, and much worst this time around because he knew there was no chance of making the Flyers squad this season and who knew when he could lace up for the Phantoms season as well. But thank God for Jim McCrossin who helped Isaac get the right and special care that he needed and got him completely healthy so he could play for the rest of this Phantoms season as well.

Isaac was getting game day dressed for a home game here in Allentown. I sat on the bed and watched/admire him as he fixes his tie in the mirror.

"Try not to worry about tonight so much baby, you are going to absolutely kill it out there like always. Once you get out on that ice, I have no doubt in my mind you will play just like how you used to before all of these setbacks. And just remember that no matter how easy, or how hard tonight’s game is going to be I'll be here for you always. But also, please promise me one thing, that if you don’t feel right to let your staff know immediately because I never want to see you get hurt like this again.” I said walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his torso.

"I promise babe, I know that I need to take my health more seriously and whatever happens, happens. One day I will make my dream a reality and officially play in the NHL, but for the time being I got to focus on the now and my health." He said as he spun around and kissed me.

Watching Isaac warm up made my heart race and beat fast. But it was all worth seeing him back out there skating with the team and his boys. He looked so good and happy out on the ice and that is all that I could ever ask for.

The journey was extremely hard and long this past summer and fall for both Isaac and I, but in the end it definitely made us a stronger unit in our relationship and it has totally made Isaac a stronger hockey player both physically and mentally.

After the game, I bolted down to the locker room this time excitedly to see my boyfriend, not in a complete shear panic like last time and waited for Isaac to come out after he was done with the media.

The door swung open and I immediately saw Isaac and jumped right into arms like a little high school girl. “Babeee, you were beyond amazing tonight! I am so very proud of you, how are you feeling?” I asked nervously but giddy at the same time.

Isaac picked me up and kissed me ever so passionately before answering any of my questions that I just threw at him. “I felt good and still feel good. It was awesome to be back out on that ice again playing with the boys in front of our home crowd, their excitement and energy helped out a lot. But truthfully,��I couldn’t have done any of this without you, y/n. I love you so much and I can’t wait to continue this amazing hockey journey with you right by myside.”

[captain-jensen]

Let’s Enjoy Tonight

Chris Evans x Reader

Request: Can I request a Chris Evans imagine where he is in love with Robert Downey Jr's daughter and is at a party at Robert's and talks to her on the balcony about her family and about her dad and eventually reveals how he feels??? Thanks 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💗

Warnings: Age gap 

Authors note: This takes place a couple of years ago to fit the scenario. I know it’s short but I’m a sucker for happy cliffhanger endings. 

       Tonight is a big deal. Your father was throwing a huge wrap party for the cast and crew of the last Avengers movie. You aren’t nervous in the slightest though, even given the scale of the party. For the last few months of filming you’ve been hanging out with your dad on set so you’ve gotten to know the rest of the cast really well. Not that you didn’t know them before hand, you’ve known them for years. This year was different though, you’re 22 this time around which means you have been hanging out with the Avengers like an adult, often getting invited to their karaoke nights. So to say you were excited for tonight would be an understatement. Excited in particular to see one original Avenger. Over the past few months you and Chris have become particularly close. It started with you guys pairing up for karaoke, then you guys starting eating lunch together on set, and when it came to the parties he or one of the other cast members threw you guys always stuck close together. You guys have become VERY close friends. Too close as some (like your dad) would say. Whenever you guys were in the same room you were always giggling together, making excuses to be as close as possible, whispering to each other, and often can be caught staring at one another across the room. Neither of you have made a move yet though, given a couple of obstacles. Obstacle number 1; Age, Chris is 37 years old, that’s 15 years older than you. Which doesn’t bother YOU but it does bring up the topic of obstacle number 2; Your dad. Your father is none other than the godfather of Marvel himself Robert Downey Jr. Now your dad is chill and understanding sure, but its hard to predict how he would react to the possible relationship between his daughter and one of his very close friends. Your dad however, was not a stupid man. He can see that there’s something between you and Chris, but he might be choosing to ignore it until it gets out of hand. You’re hoping that tonight is the night things get out of hand.

There is only about an hour left before people start to show up to your dads rented condo. You’re wearing a simple red dress that hugs your figure just right. Hopefully Chris will love it. “Y/N sweetie are you almost ready?” you hear your fathers voice outside the door.

“I’m done, come in dad” You see the door creak open slowly and then your dads head pops out from behind it.

“Sweetheart you look beautiful. A little intense though for the wrap party isn’t it? I mean that’s a lot of shoulder, are you trying to impress someone?” He asks only half joking.

“Oh my god dad, I’m just trying to fit in with the Hollywood crew” you retort. Putting to use the wit your father passed down.

“Well I’m relieved to hear that” He said. Even though he fully knew what your plan was, he was happy to not hear it come out of your mouth. “Well people are going to be showing up soon so lets go eat” and with that he walks out of your room to go snack on some hors d’oeuvres. 

 A knock at the door of the condo startles you and you jump up to accompany your dad at the door, welcoming the first guest of the evening. To your dismay however, it was just Gwyneth and her husband. After about an hour and several guest arrivals later, you finally hear his upbeat and loud voice through the music. You look towards the door and see Chris hugging your dad at the door. You coolly make your way to the door while trying to keep your excitement in your chest. As soon as your in Chris’ eyeline he can’t take his eyes off of you (your dad recognizes this). As you approach your father and who you hope will become your daddy, you put on your prize winning smile and pull Chris in for a hug. “I’m glad you came tonight” you say softly into his ear. 

“You know I would never miss a good party” he responds, pulling away from the hug after feeling a pair of suspecting eyes on him. Chris could never let it be known by anyone how much he liked you. He couldn’t do that to his friend. He also couldn’t help it. You were magnetic. Whenever you were around, Chris felt like the happiest guy around. He could never take his smile off of his face, and the same applied to you. After you guys separate your dads attention gets pulled elsewhere. “You look...really amazing Y/N” Chris says quietly to you. 

“Thanks, you do too Chris” you shoot him a wink and a sly smile. “Lets go get a drink” You say, already ushering him to the makeshift bar where a very skilled mixologist was slinging drinks left and right. You both order a drink and decide to sit at the bar. “So how does it feel knowing you aren’t Captain America anymore?” you ask. 

“Honestly? It’s bittersweet. I mean I’m grateful for it but I’m also excited to be able to explore different characters and stories and such” he responds. 

“That’s good. Do you have any projects coming up?” 

“Yeah I just signed a contract with Apple to do this limited series adaption of a book called ‘Defending Jacob’ I get to play a father in it.” he responds excitedly. 

“Chris no way! That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you!” you respond with just as much enthusiasm. 

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say” he replies with a soft smile on his face. You’re about to respond but you get interrupted by a hand landing on your shoulder, causing you to turn around. 

“There you are, I just got here and wanted to come say hi.” You see a wide grin on Mark Ruffalo’s face. He greets you and Chris, making small talk until he sees Hemsworth and takes his leave. 

“Do you wanna go outside?” Chris asks with a raised eyebrow, obviously nervous but eager to be alone with you while you look the way you do. 

“Yeah sure. It is a little loud in here” He leads you through the crowd by a strategically placed hand on your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest and you’re sure he can hear it even over the blasting music. You make it outside and there’s a couple small groups of people already on the balcony, but there’s enough space for you two to talk without any interruption. 

“So are you going back with your dad to California?” Chris asks once you get situated on one of the couches, knees just touching his. 

“I’m really not sure yet. It’s nice living rent free and hanging out with him, but I don’t know if I want to live in Cali, I really like the east coast” you respond. 

“Oh like Massachusetts?” he asks in a cheeky voice. 

“Well I was thinking more along the lines of New York.” You respond, not knowing that he held real hope in his heart that you wanted to move to Boston with him on a whim. He knew that wouldn’t happen though. There was no way someone your age would want to be with a man his age. He also knew your father would not approve. 

“Ah right. That makes sense”

“I’ve always wanted to see Boston though. I’ve never been to Massachusetts” you say. 

“Oh really? You know, I’m a pretty good tour guide if you’re ever interested” 

“Well I’ll definitely consider that” You fall into a deep silence. The other groups of people had made their way back inside some time ago, leaving you two completely alone for the first time ever. You notice a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and know that he’s obviously anxious about something. “Are you alright Chris? You seem spooked” You decide to ask, seeing if he wanted to confide in you. 

“When you asked me earlier about how I felt not being Captain America anymore it made me realize the fact that I’m not gonna be working with any of those people inside. Not Scarlett, Mark, Chris, or your dad. It just kind of hit me”

“Oh Chris I’m sorry. But you’re still all friends, it’s not like you’ll never see each other again. That’s good. From what I’ve heard, castmates aren’t normally as lucky as you guys are when it comes to your bond” you respond, trying to comfort him. 

“Yeah you’re right. I’ve met some of the most amazing people during this time of my life.” He says. “If it wasn’t for Captain America, I wouldn’t have met your dad, therefore I would have never met you. So I’m still grateful.” He looks you deep in your eyes as he says this. He takes you in fully, like he’s trying to memorize your face. 

“I’m grateful too” You say. Looking at him just as deeply. 

“Y/N, I need to get something off my chest. Because I may see Rob again after this, but I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“What is it Chris?” You ask with baited breath. 

“These past few months that we’ve been spending time together, have been the best moments of my life. I’ve never felt more light and happy with someone. You’re beautiful, intelligent, caring, funny, and so open and in love with life. When I’m with you, I feel like a better person. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and your dad wouldn’t approve. I just needed you to know” He says softly. He looks up from his lap to check your reaction. Where he’s expecting confusion and maybe even discomfort, he instead finds a warm smile and slightly glossy eyes. 

“Chris, I feel the same way. I like you too.”

“So you aren’t uncomfortable with the age thing? What about your dad? Does he know you like me?” He asks in bewilderment at the fact that his feelings are actually reciprocated. 

“It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you. As for my dad, there might be a period of adjustment, but he’ll get over it. He probably suspects already.”

“Y/N. Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Yeah of course” 

“Can I... kiss you?” He asks, slowly leaning forward until he’s just centimetres away from you. Without another word, you close the distance, letting your actions speak for you. The kiss is tender but full of longing and ambition. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, letting his tongue swipe past yours languidly. Feeling out of breath, you break the kiss, even though it nearly kills you to do so. “I needed that” He says sort of sheepishly. 

“Me too” You look around quickly to check if there was any witnesses. But you were still alone. So you latch your mouth back onto Chris’ in a much hungrier and desperate kiss. He breaks away quickly though, not wanting anything to get too heated. 

“We should talk to your dad before anything else... escalates” He says, it’s then that you notice his slacks clung a bit tighter to his legs. 

“Or I can pretend to go to bed but actually go with you to your hotel” You suggest, trying to devise a way to avoid the conversation with your dad. “Then we can just tell him tomorrow” 

“Lying is not the best way to do this” He says with a small giggle. “I want to, but I want to make sure Rob won’t put a hit on me if he finds out I helped his daughter lie to him in order to sleep with me” He argues slowly while he lazily tries to fight off your advances. 

“Alright, that’s probably smart” You give in and stop trying to kiss him. “So how are we going to do this? Tell him tonight? Or maybe tomorrow at brunch?” You eagerly ask, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible so the two of you can enjoy each other in peace. 

“I say we enjoy tonight, plan exactly what we want to say, and do it tomorrow. Then we can spend the next couple of days together in peace” He makes another good point. 

“Ok. We should probably get back to the party then. We’ve been out here for a while. People will notice”

“Yeah we should” With that he looks over his shoulder and once he realizes the coast is clear he gives you one last deep kiss that literally takes your breath away. You both clear your throats and stand up. He walks with a more scandalously placed hand on your hip and shoots you a wink and that famous flirty smirk. You walk through the doors and back into the condo. For the rest of the night, even though you try to hide it, you’re both gleaming at each other and constantly sharing small touches. Robert, not being as oblivious as you both thought, tries to think of a nice brunch spot for the inevitable conversation tomorrow. Even though he could confront you both right now, he just stands by. Watching you enjoy your night next to the best man he could wish for for his daughter with a smile on his face as well. 

                                                   The end

[ahockeywrites]

Is that a drawing of me?

You sighed. Your professor set you an assignment to draw something that makes you smile. His suggestions included a pet, a sport or a loved one. Naturally, the first thing that came to your head was your boyfriend, the resident pest of Calgary, Matthew Tkachuk. The only problem you had, is that drawing faces was your weakness when it came to your artwork. It wasn’t that you couldn’t draw faces, if it was a life or death situation, yes, you could draw a face. However, when compared to your nature drawings, they were second best.

“So, are we gonna get a drawing of Mr Hockey hotshot this time?” your friend Anna asked. You looked at her with a look only she could read. Realistically, the answer should have easily been yes, but your worry of making him look bad was heightening your anxiety.

“It’s an idea, but you know how I was in our portraits module. How can I do the man I love justice when I can barely draw someone with straight hair,” you said as you slumped into the chair in the small coffee shop. “His curls will be the death of me.” Taking a small sip of your coffee, you noticed a text from the devil himself.

Matty: Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’m back from practice now! Let me know what you want to do for dinner :) x

You: Urm… I’m good for anything? Something quick bc I’ve got college work to do x

Anna could tell that you were talking to Matt, solely by the way that your face lit up whenever you two spoke. “But, who or what else would you draw?  I mean, I’m planning on doing my family by the lake back home, if that helps?” Anna offered. You knew she was just trying to help, but you had to draw Matthew. You had skirted around it before but you had decided.

“I’m gonna draw him, but hopefully not too well,” you said, “I can’t inflate his ego any more. I think Brady and Taryn would want words with me.” The two of you giggled, knowing that anything that made him look too good in his eyes would just make his head grow 20 sizes.

“Yes my love!!” Anna exclaimed, “shall we stop by the art store before art history?”

“I think I’m gonna need to,” you explained, “I need some new canvases and a lot of red pencils if he’s gonna be in Calgary gear.”

The two of you left the coffee shop for the nearby warehouse full of art supplies. It was just off campus and offered a generous student discount to almost anyone. You wandered down by the canvases, trying to figure out which size would be right for your latest piece. Too small and the picture would look cramped, too large and the image could look out of proportion. Eventually, you settled on a relatively large one and by this time had picked up some very Calgary appropriate red and black pencils. You also spotted a scrapbook that looked perfect to start filling with photos of you and Matthew.

Scrapbooking was something you had always wanted to get into, but it never came up in your studies and you always thought that you should practice line art or painting. But with your second anniversary coming up, it was something you could do in your downtime to relax but also create something beautiful. All you had to do was get a few rolls of washi tape and some photo corners. Everything else, if you had forgotten it, could easily be ordered later.

2 hours and $150 later, you exited the store with Anna and headed to your final lecture of the day. Now, just because you enjoyed both art and history did not mean that you enjoyed the combination of the two. Especially when the professor decided that it would be fun to set a 2000 word essay on the Renaissance period. “I cannot wait for this day to be over,” Anna spoke aimlessly.

“Honestly, same, hopefully Matt has got some food ready for when I’m back,” you hoped, no, prayed to someone above that he had actually made something and hadn’t burnt down your apartment. “I’m gonna head off now, but text me updates of your portrait?” you asked Anna. She nodded and you started your short walk from campus to the apartment.

15 minutes later, you arrived home and tumbled through the door. The smell of something baked filled your nostrils. “Matty baby?” you called out, hoping he would hear you and give you a hand with all the supplies you had bought.

“Y/N!” he called, coming to the hallway. “Need a hand?” he asked, but the two of you knew it was rhetorical. You let out a small giggle and gave him two of the bags you had filled to the brim with scrapbooking items. Now, you could have hidden them from him, but it was likely that he wouldn’t even know what they were so you were safe. The two of you moved in sync to the office of the apartment which very quickly had become your own personal studio with an easel and multiple chests of drawers with the most random supplies in them.

“Just pop them down anywhere, I have a drawing I want to start tonight along with an essay,” you complained.

“Don’t you worry, I have wine and lasagne,” Matthew sang. You audibly groaned at the sound of food, all you wanted was a warm meal and to relax. At least you’d be able to get one of them tonight.

You two sat down at the island that graced the kitchen of the apartment. Matthew had set the table and even put a few candles out, “I thought you could do with an hour or so of doing nothing,” he spoke as he went to grab your hand. He rubbed soft circles over your knuckles as you picked up your wine glass with your other hand.

As you took your first bite of the lasagne, you sent your boyfriend a wink. Lasagne was one of the few things he could cook and not mess up and he knew that. “I am so glad that I have a small amount of time before I start my drawing tonight,” you explained.

“What are you drawing?” Matt asked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips.

“That is something I would rather not share just now, but you’ll find out later,” you winked. You were never particularly secretive when it came to your artwork so he was slightly confused but he went along with it. Maybe, he thought, it was going to be a gift for someone and you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise.

The two of you continued to chat over dinner, talking about practice and how boring your lectures were. The boy sitting across from you never failed to make you laugh and you knew that you couldn’t draw anyone else other than him. As he was talking, you allowed yourself to take in his features and you tried to think of the best way to draw them. “If you’re done staring, I’m gonna sort the dishes out,” Matt laughed. You hadn’t even realised you were looking so intently at him. “I know I’m beautiful,” he got out before you tried to tackle him to the ground, however, your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I think this means it’s time for me to go and get started with my assignment,” you giggled from underneath him. “Come grab me if I’m still working and should be asleep, yeah?” you asked. He nodded and let you head to the office.

Once seated in the office, you pulled out your laptop and google searched Matt’s name, hoping some good images of him came up. Or at least, some that you could try to emulate. You found one of him smiling and celebrating a goal and thought that would be perfect. It also meant that the majority of his curls were underneath a helmet so wouldn’t have to worry.

Grabbing the canvas you had specifically bought for this, you placed it on the easel. You began to sketch out the rough shape of a skater in the foreground. Then, you moved onto the face. You thought if you did the face early on, you could fix any mistakes with it once the rest of the image was done. Starting with the eyes, then the nose and mouth, this wasn’t going as badly as you thought it might have gone. But then, the dreaded curls were staring at you from underneath the helmet. Sighing, you knew that if you didn’t start them now, they would never be done and a bald Matthew was something you never wanted to see.

A knock on the office door startled you, “baby, it’s almost midnight. You have an 8am lecture tomorrow and don’t want you to be late,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, just gimme a few minutes,” you replied. By this time you had moved onto the logo on his shirt and if anyone saw, it would be incredibly obvious who you were drawing. Curly hair, Calgary Flames player, number 19, with an A on his chest. You were so engrossed in the drawing, you hadn’t noticed Matthew open the door and walk to be behind you.

“Is that a drawing of me?” he asked. You jumped out of your skin and he had to put his hand on your shoulder to stable you. You meekly nodded and looked up to him. “It’s amazing,” he said as he took in the drawing. Suddenly, he put two and two together, “this is why you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing, eh?”

“Maybe,” you said softly, trying to hide yourself in his chest. “Didn’t want to inflate your ego anymore.”

“Baby, if every drawing you do of me is this good,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours, “my family better make an entire room back in St. Louis for my ego.” You slowly pressed your lips to his as a sign of appreciation.

“I take it you like it then?”

“Like is the wrong word, I love it. I also can’t wait to send a picture of this to the family group chat to get their thoughts,” he laughed.

“Well, as long as your mom doesn’t want me to do another one, I think I’ll be okay,” you said as you kissed him again.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Damijon Christmas Present!

FOR THE DAMIJON SECRET SANTA I HAD... @nymph-patt

dear nymph:

hi love! i haven’t written in a fat minute and i’m a little rusty so bear with me hehehe. i hope you have a wonderful holiday season! all my love -elle!

I’ve got a fluff christmas fic and a lil headcanon for ya! 

Merry Stress-mas

“You can’t plan Christmas like a battle strategy Dami,” Jon groaned as Damian wheeled a whiteboard into their living room. “Actually, I’ve found it to be quite similar. Pay attention Kent, I know sticking to the plan has never been your strong suit.” Damian’s foot was tapping like crazy, Jon noted his clear anxiousness- needless to say Damian wasn’t the holiday type. Makes it a million times harder when it’s your first Christmas together as a couple. 

*super-couple. 

Jon gasped as Damian flipped the whiteboard like a school teacher, revealing meticulously drawn out plans mapped in expo-marker. “We start with my family, we stay until Jason is ten shots in, after that Christmas always becomes a nightmare so we head out. With your super speed it’ll be only an 14 minutes 37 second trip to your family where we stay for the majority of the night. At the end you rush us back to Gotham to console Dick after Bat-Christmas fails as always. Our emergency word is tyrannosaurus should anything go wrong at the drop we flee. Any questions?” Damian was flying through the plans, pointing at bulleted lists and analyzing possible flaws. 

Jon took a deep breath, a smile creeping over his face. “I didn’t think you’d care so much about our first Christmas together with our families, it’s kind of sweet.” Lazily he reached for Damian, clinging to his back while Dami shook his head, mumbling as he edited the board. “Not really our first Christmas Kent and I definitely do not care about family tt,” Jon didn’t reply, he just smiled into the crook of Damian’s neck.

“Our suits bring down our aerodynamic potential so I’ve taken the liberty of adjusting our arrival time to 15 minutes 43 seconds. Does that sound accurate?” Jon hummed in response as he straightened Damian’s tie, it was already perfect but he’d take any excuse to get closer to Dami. “Ready my love?” Jon glanced at Damian who was checking his watch. “Yes.” Damian responded, absent mindedly clasping Jon’s hand as they made their way to the mansion. 

“DAMI’S HERE!” Steph’s screech announced. She was hanging off the banister as she stole popcorn pieces from the massive tree. “Wonderful- Miss Brown I must ask you don’t eat the decorations tonight, have some festivity,” Alfred shook his head as he made his way to Jon. “Magnificent of you to join us Master Kent, I assume you will also be heading to your family’s festivities as well?” Jon opened his mouth but Damian answered first. “Yes Pennyworth, we plan on just saying for hors devours,” his curt reply brought a knowing smile to Alfred’s lips. “Always planned with you Master Damian,” his accent was playful making Jon chuckle. 

Dick descended the stairs, Damian groaned at his bright green and red striped suit, Jon couldn’t help but laugh either. “Hellllooo super boyfriends! Are-You-Readyyyy-For-Tonight!” Dick practically skipped towards the two, pulling them into a tight hug before Damian could slip away. “We won’t be long Grayson we must attend the Kent family Christmas too,” Damian nodded curtly, shifting closer to Jon who got the message and moved forward into the living room. 

“Actually, where are all the bat-siblings? And where did Steph run off to?” Jon noticed no one was around but Alfred who was preparing something delicious in the kitchen. Dick began chuckling, a devilish smile spreading across his face. “Oh, everyone is down in the batcave. C’mon.” Damian looked taken-aback but Jon was never to shocked by batfamily-antics. 

The two followed Dick to the secret door. “Now, we heard from a little super birdy [Dick winked at Jon who was now openly grinning] that you were a little nervous about having to deal with two Christmas’ this year, so we felt it’d be easier for everyone if we just-” Dick popped open the door to a winter wonderland of a batcave. A large table was put out, filled with their family members. “Merry Christmas!” A chorus of laughter broke out as Damian’s jaw dropped. 

At the table were the batfam, Kents, and even a couple speedsters littered around. All were laughing and smiling at one another. It was the biggest family gathering Jon has seen ever. “No need for crazy plans my love, just enjoy tonight with everyone,” Jon whispered to Damian as he scanned the room. “I- How did you- Thank you,” Damian settled on the last words of praise for the wonderful man who made every single day better. “No need for thanks, I’d get you the world if you wanted it, but for now let’s have a very Merry Christmas!” Jon took off towards his family and Damian would help but feel the corners of his lips betray him with a smile. Heart full he made his way down to his family.

“JASON DO NOT FLIRT WITH KARA SHE’S OFF LIMITS!”

“WALLY DID YOU EAT ALL THE COOKIES ALREADY?”

“BRUCE, CLARK, STOP FIGHTING OVER WHO GOT THE OTHER THE BETTER GIFT. YOU’RE BOTH RICH!”

very merry indeed. 

~

Okay so I haven’t absorbed much batfam content at all for weeks so hopefully my spin on the HC is still cute : )

I don’t think Jon gets enough credit for how observant he is. 

Too often Jon is forgotten, the second super boy, the sidekick, the boyfriend, the man who left everyone for space. 

It’s true, technically. But Jon is so keen at reading those around him, especially the un-readable Damian Wayne that I would argue it’s a super skill in of itself.

He gets it from his mother you know, Superman was always a little dense, but, though no one believes it, he always had Lois to help him out. Too often the quieter, smarter, more analytical side gets forgotten and that’s no different with Jon. His friends don’t see the way he checks up on them, taking in their facial expressions and reading them to know the right thing to say at the right time to help them out. They don’t realize he spent whole days memorizing their heart beats and their breaths to know if they’re ever in peril. And they don’t see the way he looks at them so fondly, beyond grateful they’re in his life.

Lois sees it.

She saw it when Jon met Damian. 

A young boy mesmerized by the wittiness and strength in the human boy. The greatest irony, the Superboy more human than the murder weapon now called “Robin”. But the two hit it off almost instantly- though Damian may not agree to that last bit. 

Lois knew Jon adored Damian, every deep red was “Robin Red” every Wayne Ent. building they walked past brought up stories of his adventures with the youngest Wayne, every Justice League trip meant begging for his dad to send him to Gotham for the weekend while he was out. He was young, but Lois knew a pair of soulmates when she saw them. 

There were these nights when they were teens. Jon would burst out of bed and rush to his mother. He never needed to say anything. There was this look in his eyes, Damian needs me. “Go” she’d always whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead thinking back to when Clark would do the same for her. 

She remembers the frantic December weeks Jon spent toiling on Damian’s Christmas gift. “What do I give a trillionaire who has the world?” Jon would whine and mope around the house for any semblance of inspiration. 

Your heart Jon, all he wants is your love. Lois always thought to herself, she was quite aware of the two boy’s growing infatuation with each other, her husband was always slower in the “feelings” department and if he was slow she imagined Bruce was a damn sloth. So, she let the boys feel safe in her presence. Damian slowly spent more time at her home when Clark was out, she grew to have a sort of friendship with Damian. He’d comment on whatever news article she recently wrote, endure a three second reply and be on his way. She was always astounded at how up to date he was on all her pieces. 

Lois was always proud of the love Jon showed Damian. She’d be the first to tell Bruce he needed to hug his damn kids, but there was a special kind of caring Jon held only for Damian. A love woven only for the two of them. Like an invisible string linking them no matter where in the universe the other was at, there was a friendship, a kindness, a passion, a love.

Overtime, Jon’s analysis of Damian led him to his own feelings. And over an even longer period of time Damian discovered his own. Jon never stopped caring, he never stopped worrying, and he never stopped loving. 

Those, are the parts of Superman that Damian, and the world, need most. 

~

Merry Christmas! <3

[seabiscuit15]

Like all of us, Eric Dier won’t forget 2020 in a hurry.

After a tough 2019, where he struggled to nail down a place in the team as he fought against illness and injury, he’s changed position, become a key figure in central defence and earned an England recall after 18 months out of the national squad. He signed a new deal in July, has started 14 of our 15 matches in the Premier League so far this term, captained the team, reached 250 appearances for the Club and is getting back to the consistent level that so impressed following his arrival at Spurs back in 2014.

Eric, who will turn 27 in January, also made the most of lockdown, telling us: “I came out of lockdown with a new perspective on a lot of things.”

In his own words, here is Eric’s 2020, and his hope for 2021 - all in 20 questions as he spoke to us after training on New Year’s Eve.

2020

Eric: "2020. In one word, COVID. A lot of challenges in many ways for everyone. The challenges we’ve faced have been very difficult, so it’s crazy to think about the challenges that people have faced over this period, it’s difficult to even comprehend a lot of it."

Lockdown in March

Eric: "I was very naïve. I thought, ‘this will only be a couple of weeks’, we all were. We were due to have a game two days later!"

Finding myself

Eric: "I spoke about this recently. I was listening to Dave Chappelle (US comedian) on Joe Rogan’s (US comedian, MMA commentator) podcast, he said something interesting, that during lockdown, everyone had to sit down with their choices for the first time. What he meant was... when you are living day to day, doing your job, going there, doing this, you are constant, never really sitting down in your house, within your relationship, so you sit down and confront those things like you’ve never done before. Hopefully, that will be something positive and that people have reflected in the right way and changed what they realise they needed to. I definitely did that. I came out of lockdown with a new perspective on a lot of things.”

Time

Eric: "Lockdown gave me the time to really strip back everything. Over time, you get bogged down with lots of things. Lockdown gave me the chance to take the things I felt were important and leave the parts I felt weren’t. That was very important for me."

Green fingers

Eric: "I built a garden in lockdown, and I've carried on working on it since. I’ve spent more time just 'doing things'. That sounds silly, but, for me, building and working in the garden was like a form of meditation. Going deeper here... I think Gandhi once said that the best form of meditation is to do something and, for me, that was being out in the garden. It’s difficult to be fully self-sufficient, but I'd like to try. I’d like to experience that."

Training

Eric: "The Club did a fantastic job getting equipment to us, keeping us fit, maintaining that interaction. The manager was calling us, messaging us, we did the Zoom sessions every day, and that was really good. For me personally, it was so nice to have a block of training. I treated it like a pre-season. It really made a difference."

Back together again

Eric: "These are the good things to come out of lockdown, when we did get back together and trained together again, the excitement and the happiness to be back doing what we all love, all back together, you want to keep hold of that feeling for as long as possible."

We are family

Eric: "It’s crazy, people like Dele and Harry Kane, everything I’ve been through in football, I’ve been with them, and I say those two because of England as well. Every moment I’ve had, Harry’s been there, and vice-versa. That’s cool, having those experiences. Together, our focus is to win a trophy for this Club and our determination to do so has never been higher."

Project restart

Eric: "It was great to be back out there, great to play after so long, and a great game to come back to against United. We all enjoyed that."

Last nine, last season

Eric: "Those nine games set the foundations for this season and we’ve been building since then, building something that I believe is really exciting."

New role

Eric: "People make a lot of it when you change position, and some are very negative. For instance, if you make a mistake, the slightest thing, it’s, ‘that’s because he’s a midfielder’. For me, it’s been important putting that to rest, I have very clear objectives I want to achieve in this position, and I’m working hard to do that. The positive thing is that I know I can do better."

England

Eric: "That was a real goal of mine, to get back into the England set up. For the 14 months or so I was out (June, 2019 to September, 2020) those international breaks were so hard. It hurts a lot. International breaks without going away were difficult for me having experienced it for so long. To be back in that set up meant a lot to me."

Hugo

Eric: "When a team isn’t doing so well, the goalkeeper usually stands out well, and Hugo certainly rose to the challenge at the start of the year. He’s been unreal."

Pierre

Eric: "He’s been a fantastic addition on and off the pitch. Off the pitch, I like people who set the standard by the way they act. Pierre is very professional, looks after himself very well, works very hard every day. The more players like that, the better."

Harry and Sonny

Eric: "The dynamic duo! It’s something I’ve spoken to Harry about quite a bit, and I think the manager deserves a lot of credit for how their relationship has blossomed. He’s demanded different things from both of them, and that has made that relationship click. Obviously, when you have two players of that quality and, on top of that, you get them to do things that express those qualities in the best way, you get what we’re seeing at the moment."

New Year’s Eve

Eric: "I’ll be with my brothers, Patrick and Eddie - they live with me - we’ll light the fire in the garden, they’ll probably have a few drinks and I’ll have a mint tea with honey!"

Leeds

Eric: "I can’t wait for this one. I’m really excited to play them. The way they play is great, they’ve been a breath of fresh air. Marcelo Bielsa is a manager who has a lot of influence in football, including here, I guess, through Mauricio Pochettino."

League Cup semi-final

Eric: "Yes, it's really exciting. I remember the semi-final in 2015 against Sheffield United, the second leg at their place in the snow. Great memories. I’m really looking forward to that, a huge game against a great team in Brentford. We want to be playing these games. It’s where we want to be, challenging."

My best of 2020

Eric: "I’m reading my favourite book for a second time. It’s called Shantaram. It’s about an Australian guy who escapes prison and gets all the way to India, where he embeds himself in life in a slum, and becomes a figure in Bombay. It’s an incredible book, based on a true story, written by Gregory David Roberts. I think reading is so good for you, it takes your mind away from everything. My favourite podcast is still The Joe Rogan Experience. Jan Vertonghen recommended a TV series Operation Odessa on Netflix, that was incredible. Undoing was my TV show of the year and for apps, it’s got to be Spotlas, of course!"

Hopes for 2021

Eric: "To stay healthy, to keep enjoying my football and to continue feeling how we all felt on the first day back from lockdown and, my biggest hope, that we can all beat this virus and return to some normality. I can’t wait to see a full stadium again, that will be fantastic. It will be great to have the fans back."

[hopeassassin]

Rally’s Scribbles in the Work

So after that lovely anon blew my mind away with their kind words and wonderful support, and because I keep telling you guys about my writing plans without actually giving you even a teensy little detail, I have decided to stop being coy and actually likely get your hopes up a bit by dilvulging small details and bits of plots of what is currently going on in my G-Drive. 

This will be a brief recount of what I have currently baking in the AoMomo oven, so let’s dive right into it! Please note that the numbers are in no particular order - I just keep revisiting each of these stories and writing a bit more to them whenever I feel like it. So there’s no ranking and no importance, just a number to keep proper count.

1. “Knight of Renown” Dragons and Knighthood AU, based on that one AoMomo pic with Momo ithe Knight and Dragon Aomine that I reblogged a while back and I actually let me imagination go a bit too much in the tags. I ended up actually rather enjoying the premise I set up in the tags so I actually started writing that one out!  Completion rate at about: 5%? I’d say? Less? :D 

2. AoMomo Music AU - a dearly beloved project that I am pouring a lot of love and attentioin to. That’s why it’s coming along super slow. It’s been in the making since November and I chewed it and mulled through it so thoroughly that I’ve grinded to a halt with it. Intending for there to be 2 chapters, and I am at about 25-30% of chapter 1 currently ready currently. At the pace I’m going, it might be another full year before you actually get to see this bad boy up, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll see all the care and effort that went into making it perfect. Honestly, no joke here, I am intending for this to be one of my rare masterpieces in this tag. So I’m not gonna rush it!

3. AoMomo Car Accident AU where Daiki barely manages to save Satsuki from being run over by a hit-and-run and ends up being the one run over instead. This was my first piece of writing after coming back to AoMomo last summer and yet completion rate is a sad thing. I want it to be flawless, a perfectly agonizing, thrilling type of torturous read that gives you a great sense of relief by the end of it. Needless to say, the clusterfuck of negative feelings is a bit difficult to hold onto for a prolonged period of time and the work is coming along slowly. Planned at about 5 chapters, I have 2 complete ones and the 3rd one is at about ... 30%? Hopefully before this year’s whumptober, we’ll have a finished piece!

4. AoMomo bond character study, which went in a direction I did NOT expect nor intend. It was suppsoed to be an idea that you will see also listed below. But I started this one from their early childhood and somehow, instead of focusing on the kids and their bond and their weird interactions with each other and their first moments of realizing they are of opposite genders, it turned into something much too fun to let go of and the ideas for scenes just kept piling. It’s going to be a long one, very explorative and very in-depth character study on the bond between these two and how it changed over the years, and their first encounters with their sexuality inbetween (because that was really the main idea that I started with... xDDD;;;) Currently at 1 chapter complete, chapter 2 somewhere around 50-60% completion, and at least 6-7 chapters to come after that, soooo.... :’DDDD YEAH. THIS ONE AIN’T SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY ANYTIME SOON.

5. AoMomo deciding to practice stuff on each other, because I am a sucker for this trope.THIS will be what the idea under previous number 4 was SUPPOSED to be like, but it instead spun out of control. So this one, under number 5, is going to be the smutty, idiots bumbling through physicality to discover that they actually have serious feelings for each other kind of piece. Chapters are planned at about at least 6-7 or so, but not my usual monstrocities! :D First we start with practice kissing, and we move our way up from there! 

6. “The Evil of Humanity” AU - a dystopian futuristic kinda mecha AU, sort of an amalgamation of some of my favourite anime in the genre - a bit of NGE, a bit of Gurren-Lagann, a lot of Darling in the Franxx rewrite and improvement, in distinctly AoMomo colors. I poured a lot of thought and love into initial outline of main moments for this one, and I really hope to make it an epic, thrilling action/adventure with a big dash of romance kind of read! Chapters currently not even planned properly, because I need to sit down and consider this seriously. It will definitely be more than 10-15 though, and they will be my usual chapter lengths so.... likely no time soon. :D 

7. Aomine Fanclub - I got a plot bunny some time ago and I shared it here and my friends were spurring me on with it, so I started trying it out a little more. I’ve written out like... maybe 30% of this one as well, but need to re-read and reconceptualize to get it back on track. The issue with this one is that I’m not really sure where I want to take it, thus it’s on the back burner at the moment.

8. KagaKuro AoMomo double-date kind of story, where Aomine is asking some curious questions of Taiga about going to America and pondering if any of his immediate friends know what Satsuki wants to do with her life. I’m really invested in this one but haven’t started properly writing it out yet beyond just sketching out the idea so I don’t forget it. (I’d say 1% complete here.) Really looking forward to using the idea of Kagami being super impressed with AoMomo perfect sync when playing as a team in arcade games!

9.Laws of Attraction Chapter 2 - You might be surprised at this, but I’m actually super invested in this one. Likely the reason why I am delaying so much working on it - I feel like all my great scene ideas are just too chaotic and I have a hard time starting the chapter flowing properly. I had like 4-5 false starts already and I’m feeling a bit skittish with picking it up. But I have such AMAZING concepts on where to take it after it revvs up the engine, so... Maybe sometime this year! Completion rate: 0% written, but at least about 30% ideas built up for the installment!

10. AoMomo college rooming together story - sort of an expansion on my fill for one of the prompts way back those years ago in AoMomo week. I really dig the concept and the trope of sharing spaces with someone you consider nothing more than a friend and then gradually learning to appreciate each other for something so much more. I am definitely doing this one some day, but not anytime soon, likely.

11. A random idea bit me the other day (read: a month ago) and I actually wrote out like... maybe 25% of it already as well. A random comment from Wakamatsu miffs Satsuki but then she realizes why he’s asking dumb questions and she comes to realize that something is wrong with the equation: either Dai-chan likes someone really close to them and she hasn’t realized, which is unlikely, or Dai-chan likes HER and is super blase about it in a way that betrays his feelings not at all, which is even more unlikely. Being a curious  individual, she sets out to find which it is! Some hilarity should ensue but mostly just some mess-with-Dai-chan fun!

12. Touou summer training camp at the sea - progress is practically 0, I wanted to write a summery piece and set my mind on this, but nothing beyond has come to me, so I’m not forcing it.

13. AoMomo cultural festival fic in second year of high school (meaning something approx end of Oct -> beginning of Nov.) with Daiki being in a distinctly Haruhu Suzumiya role at that festival (has anyone even seen this anime? I adored that episode to freaking bits, man, it’s engraved upon my soul) and singing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and one more song just like Haruhi did. And Satsuki just beholding the phenomenon he becomes in no time flat while he lays bare his passion for life for all the student body to see. Shippiness will happen in private afterwards!

14. You Can Leave Your Hat On Chapter 2 - Probably like 2-3 years ago while I was still in the damn woodwork and wrestling with real life and adulting being crap, I remembered this AU premise and I got super hyped on the idea of Club Owner Dai-chan being a flirt with innocent Satsuki who got dragged to his joined and fell in love at first sight with his shenanigans. I’ve already played around for like 7k words with the second chapter of this but I’m still not where I want to be at, so it will take a while longer to flesh it out.

15. Idol Worship - a story that I promised my mate aricana some 6 years ago the premise for which I am super hyped for but not quite engaging with it yet. The idea was that Momoi finally starts gettiing the dates she has been pesting Kuroko for for years, and Daiki feeling terrible about beholding that, whilst Kise is being pestered by Horikita Mai for a date and instead ditches her with Daiki because he knows his former Teikou classmate is a huge fan of her. Mai-chan isn’t particularly happy but somehow ends up enjoying her time with Daiki and starts considering actually pursuing him instead of Kise when she sees what an interesting soul he is, with the torch that he’s carrying for some girl in his life he doesn’t really talk about but is evident from the little things he drops off as hits. AoMomo shenanigans will start to ensue properly when Satsuki realizes that Daiki is actually having a close female friend who is not her but is Horikita Mai instead, Dai-chan’s perfect woman, practically. She doesn’t take well to the news and has to grapple with why that is! And what to do with these newfound frustrating emotions!

16. Obstruction of Justice Chapter 3 - MAYBE SOME DAY, I WILL GET TO WRITING THIS. Last summer I inteded to do just that but instead, Wild Side of Justice was born. And it became a spin off of sorts on its own. ORZ. I WILL FINISH THIS SOME DAY, I do have some plans for it and I do have the desire to pursue them. I just need to be in the right headspace for it ahsjkfhkjaf

17. A PWP story of Kagami arriving early for a practice match at Touou and somehow walking in on AoMomo getting busy with each other in very unexpected and explicit ways that Kagami did not see headed his way. Because, we need more PWP in this fandom, honestly.

18. And since we DO need more PWP, recently when checking the 30 lemons community on LJ (shut up, I’m not ancient, YOU’RE ANCIENT) I was wondering how exactly a smut plot around the “Taken by the Faceless Stranger” could work for Aomomo and I came up with this Masquerade ball that they end up both attending because of their friends and meeting each other and hitting off fantastically just chatting the night and then banging in a niche in the long castle-like premise of the ball. :’DDDD Cuz it’s me and if I don’t have something like that in the works, you know i’m likely sick.

ALL OF THESE I am planning on eventually finishing one day. ONE DAY!

For now they are in various states of completion and in various stages of being cared for and improved on with more ideas added and fleshed out.

I am not joking when I say I am very invested in this fandom. I just have difficulty getting to writing out these ideas when I spend like 60% of my free time playing my mobile games. :D 

So there you have it. I didn’t want to say anything about these because 1) I don’t want to get your hopes up. You Can Leave Your Hat On 2, for one, has been in the making for 3 years, very on-again-off-again kind of way, and I just... can’t do that to you guys. I have decided against posting any incomplete fics so I don’t torture you guys and my muse doesn’t abandom me forever for them. So when something is complete, it gets posted promptly for your viewing pleasure!

And 2) If I divulge too much of the story, I feel like my hype of it may disappear completely. Ehh, my muse is a willful creature, what can I tell you... 

So let’s hope at least SOME of these get to see the light of day soon!

[famedroleplayarchive]

There won’t be an activity check today and you can count it as a free week because I have some big but hopefully not too big news. Famed is going to undergo a restructuring, and this is going to involve me asking everyone who would like to remain in the group to resubmit an application to keep their muse(s).

To be clear, this is not a complete revamp. Most of the major processes of how the roleplay work will not change and claims and development on muses will be able to be kept unless you put them in a majorly different position (in which case, claims that will no longer work can be refunded!), but the the size of the roleplay will be cut down over half from 135 spots to 65 spots. Many of the groups will be merged and all will be changed to some extent so that we have a total of thirteen groups, all with four to six members instead of the over twenty groups, many of which are rather large, we have now.

I want to disclaim that I know there will be members who connect less with the roleplay after the restructuring. I also want to apologize to anyone who is inconvenienced by the changes made, but please know I am only making these changes because I feel it is absolutely critical to the long-term life of the roleplay. A restructuring of some sort is something I’ve been thinking about for probably over a year or so now and I’ve been trying to avoid it for the sake of disrupting everyone as little as possible, but it’s become apparent to me that it’s necessary to keep the roleplay going, not because of member activity but because of my own ability to handle everything as an admin. I created Famed over four years ago when I was in a much different place in my life and had very little experience with idol roleplays and no experience at all running an idol roleplay, so I haven’t always been totally happy with how everything is set up. While I always did my best to make sure I was confident I could handle things before adding anything else onto my plate, naturally, several major life events have occurred over the past four years, especially the last one, that have altered the amount of time and energy I can commit to roleplaying, often making it draining and difficult to manage the group at its current scale.

Taking on another admin or mods would ultimately mean quite a bit more being required of me for at several months in order to evaluate any options presented to me and to help introduce a new person to all of the intricacies of the roleplay at a speed we’d both we comfortable with. It would also require me to be able to find someone I would be confident placing that responsibility on since I wouldn’t want to do it by half measures, which isn’t a guarantee. With all of that considered, I feel that this restructuring is the best course of action to keep the roleplay alive for the foreseeable future instead of risking my own discontent and stress leading to a fizzling out of the roleplay. The changes being made are all ultimately being made in hopes of making a more enjoyable and sustainable roleplaying experience in the long term for everyone involved, including me on the admin side and hopefully members as well!

Speaking of which, this will also be a chance for members to look at their own experience in the roleplay and muses and make their own changes to their muses as they find appropriate for improving their roleplay experience. I’ll be asking everyone to send in an updated application for the new changes since some details will probably have to change for every muse to some extent. Members are welcome to change what they feel necessary (or might be required by nature of the changes), from the muse’s group, to their position, faceclaim, age, background, etc. This means you’ll be able to pick new past claims made on your application too and a new past claims system is being put in place that will actually allow muses to have a more established career in their backstory! You’ll also be able to potentially refund points claims made that no longer fit changes you have to make to your muse, but that will be handled once the re-application process has been completed.

New main blogs have been created for the purpose of having a fresh start void of any old information that might still be lingering around blogs that will no longer be accurate. The new structure of the groups and companies can be found here on the new main (the URL will be changed to famedroleplay tomorrow!). On August 15 at noon EDT, exactly forty-eight hours after this post, I will be opening up for reserves to keep muses. You may only reserve spots for existing muses at this time, not for new muses, and muns will unfortunately now have to be limited to a maximum of three muses due to the decreased size of the roleplay.

Currently in-use faceclaims will be held for the muses they are used for unless the mun chooses to reserve a different faceclaim for the muse or until the period of accepting applications for keeping muses is up. Since groups, positions, and model groups have been moved around so much, I decided not to assume the assignment of positions to any muse, so it will be up to muns to reserve the spot they feel best suits their muse. Everyone will get a couple of days to look positions over before reserves are accepted to make the reserving of positions as fair as possible. I plan to do three acceptances on August 18, 22, and 25 that will be reserved solely for those applying to keep their muses, and the August 29 acceptances will be the first time we open for new muses again. Activity will start up as normal on August 22!

Members planning on keeping their muse may continue to write during this time if they’d like and work out that they’ll be keeping those plots, but points can’t be collected for anything that wasn’t already in progress since you might end up retconning it anyway.

Thank you all in advance for your understanding and I hope you’re able to find this exciting in some way! I know I’m hopeful for what I see as a fresh phase of Famed. Famed version 1.2, if you will. I’m aware this will likely be the end of the road for some who aren’t as interested in the new structure or can’t find muse within it or just don’t agree with my decisions, and to anyone who finds this to be your parting of ways with Famed, thank you for the time you did dedicate to the group! I do request to please avoid sending rude messages for the sake of being rude if the restructuring isn’t your cup of tea, but I will be sad to see anyone go who does leave. The alternative was me most likely, at best, having to put the roleplay on hiatus by the end of the year to take time to deal with real life, so this choice has been made so that I don’t have to do that and I can keep this home for so many wonderful muses running as long as possible!

A post with more information about the process of re-applying has already been posted to the new main by the time this post goes up. Check out the updated FAQ on that blog as well since it highlights a few of the more major changes already!

[sisterspooky1013]

Never Give Up On A Miracle by SisterSpooky1013

12,864 words / Read it Here on AO3

X Files Missing Scene Fanfic Exchange gift to @night-of-cydonia , tagging @today-in-fic

Prompt: what happened after the flashbacks in Per Manum, from Mulder’s perspective?

It had been hours. Or it felt like it had been hours, anyway. He craned his neck to see the time on the microwave; 3:15. Her appointment was at 1:00, she should be back by now. He considered calling her, but maybe she wanted to be alone. Maybe it was bad news again. He shifted around a bit to get more comfortable on her small couch, thought about lying down in her bed but decided against it. Thought about digging through her fridge for something to eat, but decided against that, too. If Scully was devastated right now, if the last embryo transfer didn’t work, he had no right to physical comfort or nourishment. So he laid there and waited.

When she’d first asked him to be her sperm donor, he was so shocked he couldn’t speak. That turned out to be a good thing, because she insisted that he not answer right away; she wanted him to take some time to think it over, not go with whatever response came to him readily. He wasn’t sure if she was worried that a too-fast response would be a yes or a no; was she afraid he’d regret saying yes? Or was she worried that he’d say no, but might have said yes if he’d had more time to think? It didn’t matter, his immediate answer was yes, and his answer the next day when he stopped by her apartment was yes, and each and every time he saw her, or thought about it, or went to the clinic for his “deposit,” his mind screamed yes. Yes, I want to father your child. Yes, I want to be tied to you forever. Yes, I want to argue over whether or not they can play contact sports or date when they’re 15 and whether we’re willing to pay out of state tuition for college. Yes, I want it all, with you. He didn’t really know if any of that was available to him; maybe she just wanted his sperm and nothing more. But whatever it was, however little or much she wanted from him and with him, the answer when it came to Scully was always yes.

When he’d come by her apartment to give her his answer, there was so much he’d wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he needed her to be in his life always, that whether she decided to quit the FBI or transfer back to Quantico, or something else entirely, that he would be by her side. He’d tried to say all those things, but what came out was “I wouldn’t want this to come between us,” which he realized too late sounded like he was softening a “no.” The look on her face was a punch to the gut; the gentle quiver in her chin that she recovered from quickly, her rush to assure him that it was okay, that she understood. All the profound things he’d wanted to confess fell out of his head and the only thing he could muster was that the answer was yes. Watching the realization dawn on her, the relief flooding her body, the joy that tugged at the corners of her mouth, felt like magic. That he could make her that happy was something he’d only dreamed of. She’d hugged him so tightly, and he smiled against her hair, smelling her shampoo. For as much pain and suffering as he’d brought into her life, he could do this for her. It didn’t make up for all the rest, but it was something.

He’d had a lot of questions about how the procedure worked, but he didn’t want to burden her with explaining it so he did his own research, learning about all the hormones she’d have to inject herself with to prepare her body and the affects they would have on her, and the need for precise timing of when they transferred the embryo into her uterus.

The embryo.

It was a medical term, but in a literal sense it was the combination of their DNA. Half of her and half of him, duplicating and developing into what had the potential to become a baby. It got them ¾ of the way to pregnant; all the embryo had to do was attach to her uterine lining. It just had to stick around. The statistics said there was a 60% chance, generally speaking, but that didn’t necessarily take into account the damage done to her ova under cryo storage, much less the damage done to her body during her abduction; he doubted the medical community had data on how those factors affected her odds.

The first transfer he was mostly out of the loop on. Scully told him when to go in and provide his sperm sample, and that was it. He observed her mood swings and irritability and inferred they were side effects from the hormones, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to be intrusive and wasn’t sure what his role was. He wanted to know everything, but he didn’t think he had a right to. One day, a couple weeks after he’d spent some quality time in the donation room, she’d been flipping through some documents in the office when she got a paper cut. What started with an expletive quickly devolved into sobbing and he was confused, and worried, and a little bit scared. He went to her, gently placing a hand on her back, and she shook her head as if to say “it’s nothing, I’m fine.” He crouched down beside her, trying to see her face, but she hid it in her hands.

“Is it…is it the hormones?” He’d asked tentatively.

She’d looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot and wet, and shook her head again.

“It didn’t take,” she squeaked out between shuddering breaths. “I went in for a pregnancy test yesterday. It didn’t work.”

He’d moved closer, kneeling on the floor beside her chair, and enveloped her in a tight hug, stroking her back as he whispered in her ear reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Scully. We can try again, right?”

She’d nodded, but didn’t speak, her arms wrapped around his neck with a strangling grip. After a time, the sobs that racked her tiny frame subsided and she sniffled, relaxing a little. He took a chance at humor, wanting to bring some levity to the moment.

“That one just wasn’t the one, Scully. It was probably the next Jeffrey Dahmer or something.”

She snuffed a small laugh, pulling back to look at him. The pain in her eyes gripped at his heart and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep his own emotions from spilling over.

“Why didn’t you tell me when the transfer was, or when you were taking a test?” He asked, hoping that his tone conveyed care and concern, not irritation.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be that involved. I didn’t want you to feel obligated I guess.”

He picked up one of her hands from her lap and held it between both of his.

“I want to be as involved as you’ll allow me to be. It’s your decision, but I’d like to know where you’re at in the process, if I can. Did more than one zygote make it to embryo stage? Did they freeze any?” His knees ached from kneeling on the floor but he didn’t want to lose this moment where she seemed to be opening up to him.

The corner of her mouth quirked and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes, there were three embryos resulting from fertilization. They transferred one, and the other two are in cold storage. How do you know so much about this, Mulder?”

He gave her a shy smile and shrugged.

“Well I wanted to know what was going to happen to my… my genetic material, so I did a little research.”

Her mouth screwed up in attempt to hide her smile. It was an expression he knew well.

“I promise I’ll let you know for the next one” she finally said, putting her other hand on top of his and squeezing.

She was good to her word, letting him know when she started her period, and that the next transfer would be about 15 days later. She’d even jokingly asked him how his donation appointment went and then laughed at him as his face turned beet red, assuring him it wasn’t a question she expected him to answer. When she snapped at him for something mundane, she apologized and explained that the hormones she was taking to prepare her uterine lining for the embryo transfer made her irritable. On the day of the transfer, she wouldn’t let him go with her but she did let him bring her dinner afterward, and then pretended not to mind that he treated her like she was made of glass until the day she could take a test. Being included in the anticipation and build up was amazing, and he found himself daydreaming about what a child of theirs would look like, how cute Scully would look with a little belly. It also made it that much harder when she called him to say that it didn’t take again. He asked if he could come over, but she insisted that she wanted to be alone. He sat in his empty apartment as the weight of disappointment settled on his shoulders, and he realized how much he had wanted it. Not just for Scully, he’d wanted it for him. He wanted to be a father, wanted to share a child with her. He’d never had strong feelings either way about parenthood, and now he could see that was because he’d never known anyone he wanted to be a parent WITH. Now that he had glimpsed what having a child with Scully might be like, he wanted it more than just about anything. A few quiet tears rolled down his cheeks and he wiped them away before grabbing his gym bag and heading out to shoot some hoops.

They’d had three eggs that fertilized, three chances, and that was it. There were no more viable eggs. The third cycle felt different, less anticipatory and more desperate. She kept him in the loop, but they were both on edge the whole time. After the transfer, she took a day off to relax, hopefully increase her odds, and he brought her lunch and smiled through his anxiety while they talked about everything except what they were both thinking about. He wanted it to work, so badly, but there was nothing he could do to affect the outcome. It felt incredibly helpless, standing by while she overanalyzed every twinge in her belly, wondering if it meant something. Over lunch the day before she went in for her test, he gently asked if he could come with her, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. It was news that he was just as invested in as she was, even though he worked hard to hide it. The last thing he wanted to do was add his own emotional needs to her overloaded plate; she should only be worrying about herself, not him. She declined, but compromised on letting him wait for her at her apartment, so he’d know as soon as she got home, and so he could be with her either way.

So here he was, waiting. The delay in her return told him he should prepare for bad news, but the mind is a fickle thing and he was still dreaming of a positive. He envisioned a daughter, a tiny thing with red hair and blue eyes. Basically a pint sized version of Scully, freckles and all. She’d be wicked smart, of course, and curious as hell. He wondered if Scully would want to name her after one of their sisters, maybe both. Would she want the baby to have his last name? It would be her choice, but the idea of another Samantha Mulder having a chance in the world made him smile as a lump formed in his throat. At some point he drifted off, visions of tossing a toddler in the air while Scully looked on with a smile dancing behind his eyelids.

It was the thunk of the deadbolt that woke him. He jolted upright, orienting himself to space and time, rushing quickly to the realization that he was about to learn his fate. Standing, he spoke.

“Scully? I must have dozed off, I was waiting for you to get back.”

One look at her face was enough. He felt his stomach lurch. He tried to find words as his heart quickened, searching for a sign one way or the other, grasping at hope. But he knew. She walked towards him slowly, her chin puckered and her eyes wet. It was bad news.

“It didn’t take, did it?”

“I guess it was too much to hope for,” her voice was strained around the fresh tears that pooled in her eyes.

He felt his heart break. He’d hurt many times, for many reasons. He’d worried over Scully countless times. He’d cried for her, and with her. He’d grieved for his sister for the majority of his life. But this hurt was different. This was the woman he loved more than life itself telling him that her dreams of being a mother were over. It was the end of a road, the slam of a door, the handful of dirt tossed on a coffin containing hope. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and hiding his own pained expression in her hair, rocking her back and forth gently.

“It was my last chance” she keened into his ear, and he pulled a deep breath in through is nose to ward off his own tears. He needed to be strong for her. She could not bear the weight of his own grief on top of hers. He held her tighter. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breath, swallowing the lump in his throat until he thought he could speak without crying. Pulling away from her slightly, he kissed her forehead and then rested his own against it, taking another beat to recover.

“Never give up on a miracle” he finally said, not sure what exactly he meant by it. He knew he didn’t want her to give up, but he wasn’t sure what a miracle would look like. He did know that if anyone was deserving of a miracle, it was Scully.

She leaned back into him, tilting her face towards his so that for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Just before her lips met his she passed his mouth and instead pressed them against his cheek, resting them there for a beat before she returned to his embrace. They stood like that for an agonizingly long time, rocking gently back and forth while her tears soaked the shoulder of his sweater and and her sobs became more shallow and further apart. He held her until she grew limp in his arms, and then he bent down and scooped her up, carrying her to the couch where he sat with her in his lap. She leaned into his chest, her eyes closed, as he reached down and plucked her boots from her feet, tossing them to the floor in a way that he knew would drive her crazy if she had the wherewithal to care. Next he pushed her coat off one arm, then lifted her torso off him gently to pull it free from the other arm and tossed it, too, onto the floor. Settling back against the couch, he wrapped one arm around her waist and encouraged her to lean into him, her forehead nestled in the crook of his neck. His other hand peppered her with tiny touches of reassurance; a brush down her shin, a stroke on the outside of her thigh, a thumb grazing her jaw, fingertips dancing over her arm, and finally intertwining with hers and settling in her lap. She was quiet for a long time, so long that he thought she may have fallen asleep. Finally she took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked. It was a rhetorical question, but the only only one he could come up with.

“Not really” she answered, her voice flat.

“What do you need?” He inquired further. He felt like he should do something for her. What do you do for someone who just had their dreams stomped into dust?

She didn’t answer, but he felt her head shake gently against him. She didn’t know what she needed anymore than he did.

“Would you like to take a bath?” He asked, giving her a brief squeeze.

Now she nodded, her cheek brushing against his chest. “That sounds nice.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before he stood with her in his arms; she was so light it took almost no exertion. He turned and set her gently on the couch and then went in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He used the toilet and then stared at his reflection while he washed his hands. He stared back at himself, his eyes empty and expressionless. He willed himself not to feel, not to let the sadness overtake him too. He needed to focus on Scully. A pang of pain gripped at his heart and he closed his eyes, biting his lip. Just be here for her. Be her strength. She needs you. With a deep breath, he set his jaw, dried his hands, and drew her a bath.

When he returned to the living room, she was curled up in a ball on her side, staring vacantly. He knelt down beside her and ran his hand down the length of her arm. He forced a small smile to his lips. Be strong for her, he reminded himself.

“Hey,” he said in a near whisper. “Bath’s all ready for you.”

She lifted her head and he offered his hand to help her pull her to standing. She listed slightly, unsteady on her feet, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her into the bathroom.

“holler if you need me, okay?”

She nodded mutely and he left her, leaving the door open a crack. Returning to the living room, he looked around for something productive to do. He picked up her shoes and set them neatly by the door, hung her coat in the closet, straightened the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Scully kept her apartment very tidy, so there wasn’t much to be done. It was nearly 5, he should think about dinner soon. A cursory inventory of her fridge indicated that they’d need to order out. Maybe they should watch a movie. Maybe she’d just want to go to bed. Should he get her pajamas ready for her? There was that helpless feeling again.

A sound from the bathroom interrupted his train of thought and he froze, listening. A low moan of agony sounded, followed by a gut wrenching sob. He walked quickly to the bathroom, knocking gently as he brought his lips to small space between the open door and the frame.

“Scully?”

Another wail and a sob. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.

“Scully, are you okay?”

He could hear her falling apart, the shredding sound of her pain gripping at him. He needed to go to her.

“Scully, I’m coming in.”

He pushed the door open slowly, the bathtub coming into view incrementally. She was sitting near the faucet with her legs tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped around them protectively. Her forehead was resting on her knees, and she was shaking with sobs as primal, guttural sounds escaped her lips, which were pulled into a grimace.

He rushed to her side, placing his hand on the bare skin of her back, which was dry and cool in the open air.

“Scully? Talk to me.” He felt afraid. He’d never seen her like this before.

She was shivering violently, her jaw chattering. She wouldn’t respond to him. She had gone somewhere else, somewhere deep inside herself. He needed to either pull her back, or go there with her. He needed to be with her. He stood, pulling his sweater and t shirt over his head in one quick movement, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs, plucking off his socks. In a matter of seconds, he was down to his boxers, stepping into the empty space behind her in the tub. He pushed his legs into the narrow gaps on either side of her body and wrapped his arms around her, on top of her own. He pulled her to him so that her back was flush against his chest, and the shock of his warm skin against hers, which was chilled, seemed to jolt her back into reality. She went slack, releasing her grip around her legs as they straightened out before her, her head dropping back against him as she wailed. When she changed position, his arms had drifted to hold her around her rib cage, the soft swell of her breasts brushing against his forearms. She was so raw, so vulnerable, she didn’t even have the sense to care that she was draped over him naked, completely exposed. He was so engulfed with her pain, and with his own threatening to take center stage and pull him under with her, that he didn’t have the presence of mind to be affected by it like he normally may have been. He could see the taper of her waist and the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, he took in the pinkness of her nipples and the wobble of her breasts as her body shook with her grief, but that’s all it was, grief. He didn’t allow himself to see the beautiful naked body of the woman he loved, he only saw how much pain she was in, and wanted to find some way, any way possible, to help her.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he cooed into her ear, gently rolling side to side in a rocking motion.

She turned then, flipping over on to her belly so that they were chest to chest, her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapping around his torso beneath the water. She was still crying, but more softly, more in control, more present. He looked down the expanse of her bare back, the swell of her buttocks bobbing just above the water line. He saw her tattoo, something she kept mostly hidden from him, and he reached out to trace his finger over it, and endless circle against her skin. His chin quivered and he closed his eyes, keeping his breath steady so she wouldn’t sense the tears that were breaking free from his eyes, rolling down to drop into her hair. He brushed them away, his wet hand spreading even more water on his face, which would only help hide what he wanted to shield her from. Her cries subsided slowly, and then stopped altogether as the water grew tepid. He felt her body stiffen, and knew that she had returned to a level of awareness that made her uncomfortable with how exposed she was and the intimate nature of what they were doing. He lifted his hand to brush her hair from her face tenderly.

“Let me get you a towel, okay?”

She slithered away from him, pulling arms and legs into position to shield her breasts and vulva from view so that he could step out, his soaked boxer shorts clinging to his anatomy. He pulled a towel from the rack and held it open, high enough that it would block his view of her, and she stood so he could wrap it around her tiny frame as she stepped onto the bath mat. He hugged her toweled form to his chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’m sorry” she murmured.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her face with confusion.

“For what?” He asked, his voice full of concern.

She shook her head. “I’m a mess” she finally said, her eyes on the floor.

He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him.

“Of course you are. It’s okay to be a mess sometimes, Scully. It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The ache in her eyes told him that she felt guilty for needing him, for being weak.

“Let me take care of you. Please.” He implored, and she closed her eyes and nodded softly.

Stepping away from her, he grabbed a second towel and wrapped it around his waist, reaching underneath to pull off his wet underwear and draping it over the side of the tub before slipping his hand under the water to pull the plug.

“come on, let’s get you dressed,” he directed her, putting his hand on her back as they walked to her bedroom.

She sat on the edge of her bed, exhausted but seemingly out of tears to shed for the moment.

“There are some clothes of yours, in the bottom drawer” she said absently over her shoulder, and he pulled it open to find clean boxers, sweatpants and t shirts, all items he’d noticed go missing at one time or another.

“You starting a collection, G-woman?” He teased her, and he was relieved to see her shoulders lift in the tiniest of chuckles. It was something.

He pulled on dry clothes, not concerned that she might turn and see him nude, then started looking through her other drawers for something she might like to wear.

“Do you want pajamas?” He asked, and she shrugged noncommittally. She didn’t care.

He grabbed some silk pajama pants, a black t shirt that looked like it would be comfortably baggy, and then paused at the smaller top drawers he knew would contain her bras and underwear. Which would be more intrusive; going into her underwear drawer or dressing her commando? He glanced at her over his shoulder and quietly opened the drawer. What was most readily available were black cotton briefs, and he snagged a pair to add to the pile of clothes. Towards the back, he could see lace, and red, pink and blue somethings. He glanced over his shoulder again; she had fallen to her side, her back still to him, head on the pillow. With preemptive guilt, he plucked at the red lace with his fingertips, pulling forward an impossibly tiny thong. He felt a little stirring in his pants and shoved it back in, chastising himself for thinking about her like that in a time like this. He closed the drawer and set the pile of clothes on her nightstand, kneeling down on the floor beside her. Her eyes were open and staring at nothing. She was there, but not. He touched her arm gently to get her attention.

“Scully? There are some clothes for you here. I’m going to order dinner, is there anything in particular that sounds good to you?”

Her eyes focused on him as though she’d only just realized he was there.

“What?”

“What do you want to eat?” He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

She sighed deeply before responding. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m not sure I can eat.”

“I’ll have to order something really, really good then, so you can’t resist,” he smiled softly at her.

She pushed her mouth into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay.”

He left her to get dressed and ordered pizza from her favorite place, then picked through her DVD collection and opted for something silly and light. Just when he was about to go check on her, she emerged from her bedroom dressed in the clothes he’d picked out and looking slightly more alert. She stopped to look at the opening credits playing on the TV.

“Weekend at Bernies?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“You own it, Scully, don’t try to act like you don’t like it.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, having no retort for that fact, and sat beside him on the couch, folding her legs beneath her. Mulder appraised her out of the corner of his eye; she looked better, a little bit anyway. They watched the movie in companionable silence, Scully smiling but not laughing at the funny parts, until a knock on the door alerted them that dinner had arrived. After paying the delivery boy, he plopped it unceremoniously on the coffee table and grabbed a roll of paper towels.

“Whose apartment are we at, Mulder?” She asked him with a teasing tone, and he got up to retrieve two plates as well two beers from the fridge. “That’s more like it” she declared, and he was relieved by how much she sounded like herself.

They enjoyed upwards of an hour of something resembling normalcy, but he knew that didn’t mean they were out of the woods. While people like to see grief as a concentrated experience that is constant until it disappears, he knew that it operated more like waves against a shore; sometimes gently lapping, sometimes receding into almost nothing, sometimes crashing suddenly without warning. He would enjoy this still water, ready to hold her up when it returned to knock her on her ass, if she’d let him.

She didn’t eat much, picking at one slice of pizza until it was eventually gone, but she did finish her beer and then lay down, not resisting when he picked up her bare feet and set them in his lap, brushing his thumbs gently against the arches in an almost-foot rub. As the movie approached its conclusion, he glanced at her and saw that her eyes were again wet and shining, though her expression was neutral. He squeezed the foot in his hand and she looked at him, offering a sad smile.

“You wanna go to bed?” He asked, and she nodded. It wasn’t yet 9pm, but she was exhausted from emotion.

He stood and offered his hands to pull her to her feet, pausing to wrap her up in a brief hug before he escorted her to her bedroom. He wanted desperately to be near her, but he also knew that she often chose solitude when she was sad, and the fact that she’d allowed him to be here as long as she had was likely the limit of what he was going to get. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d let him sleep on the couch. He was considering how to make this request as he pulled back the covers and tucked her into bed, sitting beside her hip on top of the comforter. She took his hand and looked at him in the soft light seeping in from the living room with something like trepidation in her eyes.

“Will you stay?” She asked, and the doubt in her voice shocked him.

“Of course I will,” he answered, squeezing her hand. “I can crash on the couch.”

She shook her head gently. “Will you stay here, with me?”

That lump was back, constricting his voice, so he just smiled at her and nodded, crawling over her legs to lay down behind her on top of the comforter, draping his arm over her waist. They were quiet for a while, but he could feel the buzzing of her thoughts and knew she wasn’t sleeping. It was getting chilly as night fell, and he shivered in his T shirt and sweats.

“Are you cold?” She asked, turning her face to the ceiling in an attempt to look at him.

“I’m okay” he lied.

“Get under the covers,” she ordered, and he complied, the warmth of her tiny body a welcome reprieve from the chill of the room. He returned his arm to its station at her waist and she took his hand under the blankets, clutching it to her belly. She sighed deeply.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, sensing that she wanted to talk.

She rolled on to her back, not releasing his hand, and looked at the ceiling as she spoke. “I just…” she started then stopped, and he watched quietly as a tear escaped the side of her eye and trailed down into her ear. “I feel like I don’t know what to do, how to move forward. Being a mother was always what I pictured for my future, and knowing that I’ll never be one….” She stopped again, wiped her free hand at her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was tight and pained. “I feel like I have no purpose. I know it’s stupid and I don’t believe at all that a woman’s only function in life is to bear children, but I still find myself feeling like my life holds no meaning now. What’s the point of this life if I’ll have nothing to show for it, no legacy to leave?”

He felt his own chin quiver and he pulled her to him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping his arms around her back, cocooning her against his body with her toes brushing his shins. He let out a shuddering breath as quiet tears rolled across the bridge of his nose and into the pillow, rubbing her back and willing himself to regain control. How could he tell her that he felt the same way? When his mom was gone, he would have no one on this Earth who was family to him. He would leave no legacy, at least not one he could be proud of. All he had was her, and she was questioning her worth.

“That’s not true, Scully,” he whispered, whispering being all he could manage through his emotions. “You can’t think like that. For one, this doesn’t have to be the end of the road for you, there are other options, other ways you can be a mom. And even if you choose not to pursue those, you have touched so many lives, mine included. Don’t ever think you won’t leave a legacy.”

She didn’t reply, just sobbed against him, clutching at his back until weariness overtook her and she drifted into a fitful sleep. Mulder stayed awake for a long time, enjoying the proximity to her that he so rarely experienced, the gentle thrum of her heart beating against his sternum a reminder that for all they had lost, they still had each other. At some point, he joined her in the reprieve of unconsciousness.

&&

When he woke, the room was dim though the clock told him it was after 8am. He could hear the patter of rain against the window; a dreary, grey day to complement their broken hearts. He turned to see Scully still sleeping, her plump lips slightly parted and her blonde eyelashes fluttering with dreams. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but now was not the time. He didn’t want her to think it was borne of pity, or sadness, or anything other than an unabashed desire to touch and love her the way she deserved, the way he’d wanted to for years. Reluctantly, he left the warmth of her bed and body to use the bathroom and then start a pot of coffee.

When she emerged 40 minutes later, he was sitting on the couch in silence, a cup of coffee in his hands and his feet on the table.

“Morning” he greeted her with a warm smile, and he felt his heart clench when she walked right over and sat beside him, leaning into his torso so he would wrap an arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest. He had the distinct feeling that she had missed him from her bed and sought out the comfort of his physical presence, and he placed a kiss to the crown of her head in appreciation. “Sleep okay?”

“Okay enough,” she answered.

“Do you feel up to going out for breakfast? Or I can go pick it up and bring it back here, if you want.”

“No, I should get dressed and attempt to be a functioning human at some point” she said, sitting up extracting herself from his embrace. “Give me 30 minutes?”

“I’ll be here, take your time” he replied, and she retreated to the bathroom where he heard the shower come on. Her change in demeanor lifted his spirits, and her acceptance of his comfort drew a smile to his lips. Though he hated the circumstances, he couldn’t deny how good the physical closeness felt. He knew that she’d likely put her walls back up without warning, and vowed to enjoy it while it lasted.

&&

After a short wait, they snagged a booth at one of Scully’s favorite breakfast spots that offered things beyond pancakes and bacon; scrambles on a bed of greens with whole cloves of garlic and house made potatoes were just what she needed. He was happy to see her actually eat and they chatted idly about a case they were planning to fly out on next week, some bureau gossip and the merits of jam versus jelly. During a lull in conversation, he saw Scully glance behind him toward the door and her face fell. He turned to look and immediately knew that the very pregnant woman talking to the hostess was the source of her demeanor change. He slipped out from his side of the booth and sidled up next to her on her side, taking her hand under the table wordlessly.

“I know this is going to sound really terrible,” she spoke in a hushed tone, “but this whole experience has made me really hate pregnant women. I feel angry at them for being able to get pregnant when I can’t.” He easily identified the shame in her statement.

“I think that’s pretty normal. I’ve always kind of hated people with normal families and parents who give them the time of day. It’s not very productive, but it can be pretty cathartic, at least in my experience.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m serious. When I see a two parent family with a boy and a girl, having a nice time out at the park or whatever, some part of my brain thinks ‘I hope they drop their ice cream cone on the pavement.’”

Scully laughed. The sound paired with the broad smile on her face were like fireworks and he beamed at her.

“That’s messed up, Mulder. I like it.”

“I bet that lady’s baby will come out with one of those smushed cone heads” he offered.

“I bet she has heartburn so bad she hasn’t slept in weeks” she retorted, smiling guiltily.

[caithyra]

“Historical Accuracy” Nope.

So... Did my eyes deceive me, but is there a female villain dressed like an oiran (Edo period prostitute, which means AFTER the Sengoku period) from Yoshiwara in Yashahime? Really? We’re having yet another villainous oiran-look-alike? Is female sexuality so horrifying that we must make villains that look like indentured prostitutes all the time? RWBY did it too...

TL;DR: Whether or not Sunrise switches and baits this STOP trying to justify this children’s fantasy cartoon as “historically accurate”. It’s not even biologically accurate.

CW: Yashahime timeline, Rin’s age and puberty, child prostitution, ~*historical accuracy*~, if you’ve gone through the whole “medieval fantasy historical accuracy” thing in other fantasy fandoms, you get the idea...

Y’know, officially according to the laws governing Yoshiwara, girls sold into prostitution weren’t allowed to begin sexual work until they were 18 years old (the age was lowered later in the hopes that brothel owners would comply with the laws, they didn’t. However, the 18-year-old law was in the 1600s, just after the Sengoku period, when organized prostitution took off). Even if sleazy brothels started them younger (though still usually, but not always, started them in their mid-teens, which by their reckoning, would be a year or two older than Rin).

Let that sink in when you go “Japanese people did not know it was wrong back then!”

They made literal laws to prevent prostitutes, who were considered of a subhuman caste, from having to work before they were late-teens/adults! If a procurer picked up Rin in the Edo period and sold her to a brothel she would have had sexual experiences later in life than she did as a supposedly beloved and free girl!

Also, if we are being historically accurate and the official ages (one year old at birth and a year older at every new year) are counted like in medieval Japan then in the spirit of being historically accurate... Rin was in that case biologically 6-7 years old in the original series; 10 when Sango gave birth to the son and Kagome returned and thus, at most, 12 years old when she gave birth to the Yashahime twins and 11 years old when impregnated...

Except that back then, the vast majority of girls didn’t go through menarche before the age of 14-15... It’s quite a conundrum to be historically accurate, you see... The modern equivalent of getting your period at 11-12 would be something like getting it at 7 years old, which, while not impossible, is considered really early and would stunt growth and very unlikely to happen on a village peasant’s diet.

Especially in Japan who banned meat between the years 675 to 1868 (yes, 1193 years, it’s not a typo) except for medicinal purposes. Meat is one of the things linked to early puberty, after all.

Which meant that very, very few women married before the age of 16 unless they came with a long contract that needed to be fulfilled beforehand, but then, it was usually with the understanding that consummating the marriage was to be put off to a more appropriate age. Most women married in their 20s because if they survived that long, they were likely to survive into their elder years.

You see, the low life expectancy in medieval lands were because infant deaths and childhood mortality rates. Once you reached adulthood as a woman at 20 years old? You’re likely to live into your 50-60s, if not longer, barring accident, injury or serious illnesses.

Also, it is possible that due to Inuyasha’s introduction in the first chapter/episode (arson, murder, theft of enshrined artifact) he is considered of an unclean/impure/untouchable caste (eta/hinin) and not allowed to marry outside that caste. (In the Tokugawa era, certainly he cannot marry outside the caste, but I haven’t looked deeply into the Sengoku equivalent. Also, any children would inherit his caste under Tokugawa laws.)

Kagome is outside that caste. In fact, as clergy and miko she’s the opposite of that caste. There’s no way she would be considered his wife in Kaede’s village, no matter what Kaede says, and as a girl brought up in a shrine in 90s Japan and likely traditionally so, she likely would refuse extramarital intercourse (not even modern Japan has a strong hook-up culture compared to, say, USA).

Luckily, she’s a miko and hopefully exempt from yobai, though. Yobai means “night-crawling” and it actually means “men have needs so let them crawl into women’s beds at night, also she might never have met him before”. It is nowadays considered part of rape-kink. It was originally a Heian period tradition that was somewhat different...

Oh and weddings were not a thing for peasant villagers. Noble weddings would have the precursor of the modern san-san-kudo ceremony in a formal reception room, but the white kimono/headgear and modern ceremonies done after the Meiji period were not a thing in the Sengoku period.

Geez, did Kagome even know what she gave up (Oden, a meat dish, is her favorite food!) when she went back in time permanently?

Okay, I’ll stop now.

But, y’know, little girls getting fucked is the sacred cow needed to be protected in the name of ~*historical accuracy*~ like always. And having recently been in the ASOIAF fandom, I have literally no patience for that bs. So this flow of consciousness rant was born.

[bellafingadventure]

Let’s talk about irony. 

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

The sky six hours from now will be illuminated by fireworks, annually, yet people are still surprised this is a thing that happens. Large groups of overworked middle class Americans taking their first and last sip of booze for months. 

Irony.

We as a people, and even those  “above” us, dictate what “worth” means to us.

This comes with how much we work, VS how much we’re paid, sided with a hotcake of WILL. 

What are you willing to do for happiness? What are you willing to sacrifice?

I’m 27 years old and always seem to be in a battle with life. I used to think it was a battle with myself, but that's such a constant I usually don’t even give it the attention we all know it deserves. 

Now I just battle life. Ya know, the ones your folks gave you without consideration of the awful traits they’d pass along with debilitating features they've both buried for years... oh. 

I feel like the two of us signed up for a different post today, although this is usual, I figured that maybe I’d throw something new into the mix. Something a little more for my other blog. 

YES, I have more than one blog. - This account was started when I was in 7th grade if I’m not mistaken, ugh theeverydayblues...I’m 27 now, and although Tumblr has become an alternate form of expression for me throughout the years, it still gets the job done..exactly how I need it to - EVERY-TIME. 

It’s the 4th of July, again -  I’m 27 years old.

What would you expect I was doing? Where would you think I am?

I’m currently at a restaurant, one I’ve avoided for a long time. The last memory-worthy relationship I was in was with my x; CHANG. We dated for almost 8 years, crazy to think that much time went by, but I guess when you’re being gaslighted nothing seems real.

Towards the end of our relationship I ended up finding out that the gym he went to daily, the one I always asked to join, he had met a nice young lady.. - 

One who soon, less than a year later would be posing for the New Year in front of a IKEA photo he and I had bought for our apartment the first year we moved in years ago. 

It’s funny, these days- Saying these things out loud and processing them just as well..

I’m sitting at a restaurant on 4th of July alone, across from a couple who you can tell has loved for many many years.

I’m usually the person to want to know the secret, to ask “What does it take?!” - Hopelessly in love with the idea of being in love..I’ve stumbled through my life not quite understanding it’s the basics you learn from that form your existence. 

They sat as I was waiting for my desert, I’ve been working hard so I bought myself a bottle of wine and a steak to pair. My waiter had been charming and immediately caught my eye with his beautifully groomed Gentleman's stash.  I noticed them because they were sat by the host at a four person table while I sat with what felt like selfishly at a two person booth.  

Immediately they talked about how cold the place felt, how he wish he wore long pants instead of shorts and how she wondered if they’d be hated if they asked to move to a area with less of a draft. 

It’s funny because for a period of my life in this  industry I sat around and talked about how dramatic and selfish people with long left chapters felt about our air or seating. Usually when we’re going through something - we think selfishly. Even If it's just at a restaurant. We worry about ourselves. 

She asked where the powder room was, after a glance at her empty seat. and empty feeling I’m sure he felt looking over at me, he journeyed off as well in hope of either not being alone, using the restroom, or both. 

He came back quickly, anxiously looking around to make sure he didn't miss his love. The longest 15 minutes I’ve ever experienced.

When she returned, he made sure she was comfortable and ready to order. They chatted a little about the price and the indoor ambiance while waiting for the delightfully mustached server we both shared. 

Their meal started off coy, he didn’t take a bite till she did, and she didn't ask for a bite from his food VS her salad. Her eyebrows were painted on with a color that didn’t quite match her hair, her expressions were misleading. 

Although her relaxed face was writing the story of her 4th of July outing, her eyebrows seemed - uneasy. 

I perfectly timed my glasses of wine to the bottle I ordered. I saved 2 1/2 glasses.

2 G - Desert

1/2 G - Waiting for bill. 

After sitting alone, and watching them slowly start to talk and enjoy each others company throughout their meal, I melted. 

I know what I deserve and what I’m capable of, but admiring a love everlasting like that really puts things into perspective.

The battles you choose, the selfishness you provide, if you want it - you’ll have it. 

Nothing comes free, and sometimes sitting alone is the perfect way to remind yourself how you take care of yourself just fine - but not settling for the bare minimum from someone else feels just as good. 

I overheard a intodroduction between the two of them and my server Adam, If I evesdropped just right - their names are Monte & Lana. 

Those are gentle reminders, to be human, and to be selfless..

I’m going to go home now and watch some movies. Hopefully the text I just saw about us being open today are fake. 

FML. CIAO